The dverse prompt, is to play with the senses.
Touch the misty breath of morning,
tangy with the steely taste of dew,
and stroke the back of river flowing,
curling ’neath the bridge piers striding.
Draw me a cloudburst drenched in rainbow darts,
and I’ll blow you kisses through the slate grey shade.
Sing me all the blackbird’s songs,
if you dare!
and I’ll reply with moonlight tangos,
strummed on a hazel branch.
Pluck me an apple with skin as smooth as oceans,
and I’ll breathe you mint and rosemary,
rock you in the scent of roses,
until the evening falls, soft as moth wings,
bee-humming with the joy of young things,
in a cascade of heavenly blue.