You Touched Me Everywhere

You touched me everywhere,
Until the clamouring hammers in my body lay still,
And the wolves that had snarled and ravened within
Were routed and scattered, like dry leaves in the wind.

For you rolled me around
As the gardener's lad,
With sun-hard hands
And mud on his boots,
Might challenge the earth,
If the gardener's lad
Had a string of degrees
And a lyrical tongue,
And the earth was in need of seeds.

Amazing how hard hands
Can coax the tender sprouts
From the unyielding ground,
And tickle the roses into bloom.

I have been peeled like a peach,
Soft inside touched.
I have been
Delicious.