Making Love Over the Cliff
Making Love Over The Cliff
Edges of the wool blanket ripple
Wave on the breeze in the fever of the wind
A parade of plaid, reds greens and blue
The lovers lay there for hours
Wrapped in warmth, in bliss, on the high mountain
There, on the jutting cliff edge, with their soft kisses
Out on the ledge overlooking the vast ocean
Yellow silk scarf beating on the woman’s flesh
Her red dress comes off suddenly on trembling fingers
Naked on the mountain top that sees a distant lighthouse
It watches back from out at sea
Cloaked in bright orange and green
One hungry yellow beaming eye of light
Spins day and night on open waves
Scanning for intruders on this mystery
Love in the afternoon is nice
It is the spice of life
Red wine leads into passion
On the cliff on mountain top
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