chins and flared nostrils,
looking down upon little ones;
dictating rules and regulations.
woe to them,
to kill mystery and wonder,
despite their distant dreams of blunder;
child becomes man,
ne’er regain youth again.
enter the alabaster woman,
nearly a child herself;
leaving young men in ruin,
and some upon a shelf.
true teacher ‘tis her right;
turning day into night;
upon her command.
seamless wisdom
taking flight,
earth’s own future mother,
shant give up without a fight,
putty in hand,
my heart held in the other,
cloaked in dress of nakedness;
cheerful spontaneity.
lust for life yet not tarnished,
concealed within her gaiety.
ah… to feel her tremble
ever so slight,
tender-rough as touch can be,
wrapped in arms of warm delight,
searching for her mystery,
discovering all her parts;
the whole entire cryptic lot;
every region of terrain,
never fearing love’s refrain.
futile vacant claim, lay I,
upon this jewel without measure,
sorrow’s last weeping cry,
my empty hall of pleasure.
foolish fasting love of none;
by rites ‘tis my leisure,
poor dear unfortunate one,
searching my lost treasure.
regrets blossom sin’s reproach,
be still, she whisper’s;
be still.
words beseech love’s approach,
in misbegotten ill.
the sun slowly hides
the mountain’s cries,
in shadow of her smile.
silhouette of dancing eyes,
making all things vile.