By Tiffany J. Keeton  (BaudGurl98@aol.com)
Date: 8 December 1997

The Mist and Her Storm

Strawberry kisses and 
 and peanut buttercup caresses-
  fingers scattered through my tresses.

Sweet and warm and cold-
 oh yeah, how the ecstasy does unfold.

Petal fragrant yearning-
 while on the waxy candle
   billows- burning.

Night melts away the chocolate
 and plucks the strawberry seeds from my lips.
Slanted gazes drift into abliss-
  plucking thunder from The Mist.

The volcano oozes molten lava-
 a shroud of smoke thus reveals,
  to hardened grenery and liquified fields.

Puddling the passionate sheets--
  bearing the stain of two hearts taking form.
It's no longer raining, honey--
    so come out of The Storm.