Melon Rose

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...