We have the basket of grapes and wine, Romance is in the air, In the forest we will dine, In love’s secluded lair. Picnic: When you said the word, My mind began to wander, Of the love we would incur, We would surely be swept under. I feed you grapes and you taste my wine, As you dine upon my lips, As our bodies both entwine, I grasp your tender hips. We roll and frolic in the grass, Laughing amid the love, Our passion forever would surely last, As sure as the heavens above. You take the grapes from my fingers, With your lips so luscious, The feeling in our bodies lingers Passion has surely touched us. You sip the wine in such a manner, You send me such a clue, This picnic will not completely end, Until I make sweet love to you... SHANE D. MOORE 8/6/1999 ALL RIGHTS RESERVEDBirth sign: Sagittarius
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