Sun Day.

[StevieFinn]

Northern bells under a Southern sun,
heat tuned mimic Mediterranean kin.
The hot honey air feels baritone,
as lethargy enters the bones through skin.

The dog shade hidden, curses his coat,
while the cat dreams of Egyptian divinity.
Soft music seeps from inside to out,
as toes & grass renew old intimacy.

She of the mystery & hot private places,
lies silkily scant in a sensual fold.
Renoir dreamt wearing one of many faces,
reserved for times that the heart should hold.

Dust will follow this days delight,
but I shall forever treasure your hot moist kiss.
& time will cloud my souls cupboard of light,
but eternal candles are lit, from such as this

[rowens]

I'm on the verge of liking the poem. It lacks something though

[StevieFinn]

I wish we knew what that something was - Thanks for commenting.