The Wilted Orchid

Silent screams and sobs
in depression’s tomb,
the lonely bud rooms.
Sweating and pushing
‘till it opens,
slipping inside enclave,
recovering
the long lost jewel,
hands and fingers commence
crawling up and
down each back,
tongue slipping in and out
of mouth,
coupling and gathering and
surrendering,
warm cream slowly flows,
reviving the wilted orchid.

(Written a rainy day in May)

May 21,2011 (final edition)

poem by Almedia Knight Oliver
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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