A fantasy

Recently, I’ve been nourishing these fantasies:
I dream that you would eventually come and seize
me and drive me to any of your favourite spots
and show me what you like; the trip promising lots.

Then, hungry, we decide for a picnic outdoors,
yet, sitting down, you take off the black shirt of yours
and whatever light dress I that day choose to wear;
warm breeze caressing bodies and playing with hair.

Each your hand becomes a body landscape rover,
pulling me close, touching and kissing all over;
Eden image of Adam and Eve intertwined,
looking lewdly for each other’s jewels enshrined.

Just your scooter, the white Wasp, is standing aside
while the sun high above our heads’ shining bright.
From the peak moment on time passes extra slow;
in the red shade of poppies we can hear grass grow.