You’re a sight for sore eyes I believe she said,

It had been a while (she was reading my head),

Indeed it has I replied, face red

My heart pounding fiercely, (I pictured her bed).

I missed you completely she cooed so demure,

She scanned me so sweetly, no innocent lure,

It’s me that you pined for? I uttered unsure,

My mind seeing intercourse, a fanciful cure.

In the woods might we dally, just you and just me?

Her Shangri La quarters, not far, I could see,

Might I be your patron, linger long to agree,

That your trove of sweet fruit satisfies only me?

But of course my fair prince, she assured as she led,

Through her grove I did follow, (I was soon to be fed),

For your succulent sugars, might my tongue lightly tread,

Spread your limbs slightly darling, for the lips on my head.

You’re my summerhouse sweetheart, she murmured mounting me,

So strong your swollen woody, (I’m her favorite climbing tree),

Might my bud upon this branch so ripe, revealed that you might see,

Be felicitous for your fondling hands, most agreeable for we.