Sunday Siesta
Sunday Siesta
I dream of Sunday siesta
Amidst magenta flowers
In the lush green valley
Under the bliss of bowers,
Holding your soft fingers
Nestling on your shoulders
I wish to listen to the song,
The gamut of our emotions
Fluttering as sweet butterfly
Will relish your love's nectar,
When you kiss my wet eyes
And touch my soft pink lips
I feel someone has rescued
Me from this doomed ship
In this valley of tranquility
Beyond the elusive morality
This world may not support
But I'm happy to be an escort.