My hand had travelled slowly to the promised spot. <br />It was a cautious journey, marked by sweaty hesitation. <br />And now a question over should I or not <br />give into wetness and its tingling sensation. <br />The depth of it, the promise of its green, <br />two velvet borders of a softness white as snow, <br />the murkey colour wedged so tightly in between, <br />the sound of distant splashing told me 'GO'. <br />The temperature was midsummerwarm and more, <br />the drops caressed my hand like honeydew, <br />I moved my index finger slowly back and fore, <br />this seemed to start the pleasant feeling all anew. <br />So, take the plunge I told myself, go head in first. <br />I did. Surprised my tongue with saltiness so sweet, <br />that upon impulse I had quickly quenched my thirst. <br />Inside my loins there was the stirring of the beat, <br />my heart was happy to have landed near the shore, <br />it sent its lifeblood to the muscles of my thighs. <br />I saw the friendly wave, immersed myself some more. <br />It was the lifeguard of the lake in Camp Horizon.<br /><br />Herbert Nehrlich<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-promised-spot/
