Crunchy Mustard

Bare with me as I have never before attempted to write poetry.
But i feel i’m off to good start with that clever title.
sorry about all the rhyming.

Her, She Kisses

It’s that time of year
the weather, the summer,
the women, so near.

It’s that feeling, that pleasure,
that taste no machine can measure.

The two become one,
one pressed against the other,
Oh the pleasure, oh the fun.

Her bossom on mine,
and mine on her.

Oh the excitement,
Oh the rapture,
Oh for certain,
No camera can capture.

A kiss on her shoulder,
A kiss on her neck,
A breath in my ear,
and I utter, “Oh dear.”