PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Her call is warm:

"Yes.Come, my son

I owe you a million kisses

And coins for your pocket."

The coin`s jingle is loud!

"Mummy.I am here..."

I succump to her call -

The call of sedative oppulence

And so to a tangle i go

In her fat-rich bossom!

Her youth like dawn

Changes with her mood

Fancies adding concoctions

To soften her veiled wrinkles

Changing hairstyles

To keep abreast with vogue!

She tells me i am her sunshine

In the dark edge of her age

"Come to bed, son

Play lover with me

Rekindle the warmth

On the door

Of my womanhood..."