Fondled by the
temptation of an autumn sunset
Erect stands a woman
in the cradle of such potent winds
Quite dashingly contributing
colour to the scene
Her silky, black
dress enveloping her ever so tightly
Composing the shape
of an inviting taboo
Whilst refraining all
comely sounds of vernacular
How her lips whisper things
of which previously I knew not
Sign o’ the times
No comments:
Post a Comment