Thanks to MenoMama for this:

Your skin glows like the cherry, blossoms soft as the lily in the purest hope of spring.
My heart follows your trumpet voice and leaps like a panther at the whisper of your name.
The evening floats in on a great eagle wing.
I am comforted by your skirt that I carry into the twilight of tablebeams and hold next to my leg.
I am filled with hope that I may dry your tears of oil.
As my neck falls from my shirt, it reminds me of your bed.
In the quiet, I listen for the last hum of the day.
My heated finger leaps to my glove. I wait in the moonlight for your secret carpet so that we may bounce as one, finger to finger, in search of the magnificient red and mystical flower of love.

Sounds filthy huh? I like it!