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As the climbing sun
Pulls back the coverlet
Of early morning mist,
The earth stretches lazily,
Turning to be kissed.
Her breasts and belly stir
Beneath his stroking hand;
She is his rich, ripe,
Fertile, recumbent land.
Arching herself, now and then,
To be closer to his caress;
He responds to her appeal
With an urgent tenderness.
Mother earth, Father sun,
Each giving something
To the other one.
He gives her light,
And warmth, and life.
She gives him a
Beautiful, eager wife.
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