Among the Gorse

A mass of contradictions is Gorse:

Keenly fragrant on a warm day, yet

Barbed to the touch.

Within, an entire world once wound through

hidden paths.

That fragrance? Purest Vanilla, with something else entirely.

A visceral  funk. Arousing.

 

Beckoning the lusty.

To a most secluded of bowers-

when with a lover.

Hidden by enclosing blooms amongst

that heady vanilla.

Or not so vanilla, when rolling on to thorns

(accidentally or with intent).

Tight-wound boughs muffle noise of

moaning sighs.

Then still conceal sated embrace,

safe from the thorny world.

 

Copyright Tom Tide 2017

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