Forty Cloves and a Bed

Gingham caresses the open sash
as salt breeze insinuates itself
through the cottage window,
curious for a taste of heaven

Tapers flicker, small spotlights
on the remains of a dinner
started in afternoon languor
and finished in evening fervor

Zephyr curls and twines, slowly,
ruffling tousled sheets and tangled limbs
that define a different kind of table,
a stage for the passion play and coda

Aeolian breath carries the musk,
across the room, the lovers' nostrils flare
at the memory of the eating
and the tasting of their own

She smiles, asks What are you thinking?
He smiles, eyes closed, and answers:
An old saying: shallots are for babies,
onions are for men, garlic is for heroes.

To that, he murmurs, I add: "goddess".
Forty cloves and a chicken make dinner,
he says, but a hero and a goddess...
they make love

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Photo and prompt courtesy of Magpie Tales via the lovely Rene at Not The Rockefellers.  This is my first ever Magpie Tales prompt.  Hope you enjoyed it!