Submitted by Short-prose-fiction
Come, red carnations stain the sheets
And candles flicker in the heavy silver
Red wine is breathing in the crystal glasses
Fine lace is flowing in the alcoves like a river.
Come, watch the shadows playing on the wall
When aromatic air is resting on the pillows
The Siamese is pouring in her basket
And bowls are filled with reddish tamarillo.
Now, please, don’t move, the cat is sleeping
And dreams of guarding pharaoh’s tomb.
Don’t talk, you’re here just to listen
The jacaranda’s magic bloom!
Photo credit: Peter Vilhelm Ilsted – In the bedroom
Vita Brevis Press. 
Nice sound.