A fresh cut melon with it's rose in full bloom
A lite misted dew layered atop its petals
Spread wide open releasing the scent from it's core
So conning, enticing
The soft wet tenderness of it's rugged interior
Spawns delight and intrigue of it's partakers interests
Only grown men know the true rose of a melon
The secrets in this garden are not for the weak or the faint at heart
Swollen full with the juices of it's ripeness
With a mans hands pull the petals apart
Delighting in it's qualites as he tastes it's sweet splendor
exploring deeper and longer searching for it's redolent reward
The knowledge of the fruit forces even the smallest of men to rise full with pride
like a king atop his royal sire
No force on earth is stronger than the melons desire
Lick, nibble, taste it; Delight in it's joy
This strange fruits delights have made men of little boys
Oh how it gives of lifes most precious fluids
Like a lion whose found it's prey, he's ready to pounce, devour, sink deeply into it
Only the sword of a man cuts to this melons core
It firmly surrounds him with warmth and love as he ventures inside
It Placates, stimulates and strokes his pride
The unencumbered core is as the holy grail
His need is to conquer it
Inch by inch, more and more
He rides its treasured trails
The rose of the melon is no cut rate prize
But the summit of life where mans very existence lies
Gengerly accepting mans eager pleasures
The melon releases a silky hint of the roses sweet nectar
Teasing, enticing, compelling him in deeper still
With previews and promises of an even greater thrill
In all that it is and all that it will ever be
One last thrust releases its contents
Ecstacy, love, desire, lust are found in its holy sanctity
With a deep moan and a strong quiver
He pours himself into it like the torrential waves of a stormed river
With the might of a gladiator in a battle yet lost
and the smoothness of a master poet reciting a gentle prose
He has succumbed to the secrets of the melons rose...
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