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The Carnation-eater

I am the carnation-eater,
Lover of the most delicate flower,
The most feminine of blooms.
I consume at every opportunity
It’s day-renewed virginity.
Anticipation of opening bud,
Appreciation of faint fragrance,
Enhanced by gentle dewfall.
The moment comes when sunshine
Makes its pink folds spring
Slowly parting in sweetness,
Each velvet lip peeling back.
Laying bare its inner secret,
Freeing more subtle scents.
Oh to tip-nose her with tenderness,
Oh to edge-kiss her gently,
Oh to tip-lick her with care,
Round and round the petal-folds.
At last when neither I not she
Can bear the torment any more –
To suck in the whole bloom,
And eat, and eat my fill!

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