Rose Petal Trail To Her Boudoir
He gave her two dozen deep red roses, her favorite,
The heavenly scent of passion surrounded her,
And filled the rooms with intoxicating fragrance.
Thrilled she was with his loving gift,
Then sad, knowing he had to work late,
Leaving her alone to enjoy the beautiful roses.
Rose petals she would put in her bath water.
Luxuriate and engulf herself in the fragrant water,
In self-indulgent delight to soothe her emotions.
Drowsy, thinking of him and their passions at night.
Wrapped in a robe after stepping out of rose water
In the hall she saw a rose petal trail to her boudoir,
Where he waited for her, tears flowed at the surprise,
As she felt like a goddess from the look in his eyes.
He held her close and inhaled her fragrance,
Driving him wild with passion and desire,
Yet gently he lay her down on rose petals in the bed,
And showered her with rose petals from toe to head.
Soft laughter mixed with passionate moans,
Escaped from her rose colored lips,
As his kisses, soft as butterfly wings, removed each petal.
© 2017 Phyllis Doyle Burns