Chocolate Moose Girl

Chocolate Moose Girl A Sunday brunch one day went me when she I saw, at table three. From my mind to forget, never nor maybe. For on this radiant sunny Sunday afternoon in the Botanical Garden, my favorite room sat at a table, grandmother and she. The walls lined in fragrant ferns of green baroque blossom ladies in gilded frames seen. Her simple beauty profile delicate cherry flourish tree. Now this vision alone, fulfilled my eyesight hunger greatly when added she did this simple act make. To her pink full lips a taste took she. When delicate and slow she lifted her chocolate moose to mouth she gifted. From the moose chocolate, I know previous take. The finest ever no chief could bake, Satisfying, soft coolness, still lingering in me. A sublime sexual treat, then look I did, toward her feet. When out rolled her toes from brocade slippers of gold, I see. Her barefoot toes ached to reveal her pleasure with each spoon to lip, delight, same measure. My mind to forget, never nor maybe.