Nectar, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

The warmth of the sun
Carried by the subtle breeze
Comforting it is
For soon my lover will come
Filling my heart with much joy

With eyes tightly closed
I know she is very near
For it is her scent
Much sweeter than petrichor
My heart rate is now doubled

With a booming smile
Waiting for her warm greeting
She’s surely to give
To my ever hungry lips
As if they’d never been touched

Oh that magic touch
Her lips giving me a rush
A rushing rumbling
Volcano set to explode
Tasting nectar from the gods