Last Week
I found your orchard
and walked upon green grasses
and leaves danced
the eyes of the child
and shy peaches
perched upon the limbs
and lilting rays
pushed slashing down
and momentary glimpses
her perfection—luminescent
quickly hidden
snatched away
the dancing of those leaves
I plucked the peach so carefully
and cupped her in my hands
–her firmness, yet fragility
echoed with the dance
I touched my lips to silken flesh
to taste what lay beneath
Her flesh,
gave way my tongue
her juices,
tang and sweet
My hunger grew
desires fulfilled—swaying with the dance,
The sky
it circled round about,
falling down upon the grass
My thoughts are whispering with those leaves
they dance to you and say—
I plucked this peach for you my love,
enjoy it whilst you may.
–by elisabeth connelley
Elisa's Spot 
sacred peach…
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In many, many ways, until there aren’t any more.
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I came here to read your One Shoot poem, but scrolled down out of curiosity and found this. It’s gorgeous. So sensual, and there is a sense, too, of a moment that won’t stay, and that should be savored intensely right now. Just beautiful.
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