Her eyes were two stout-dark portals she used, simply, to see -
From just beyond which she lay bare her soul to me.
Such things - Wild and hypnotic things – I could behold in her,
That I felt unnerved, allowed to see too much, a voyeur.
Watching from afar as dusk’s sullen curtain begins to draw,
I feel the whiling wanton at my hide begin to gnaw.
She wore her hair atop her head when first our gazes met,
It’s pleasant hue, just the auburn side of brunette.
Errant strands doing battle to caress her slender neck,
While it’s henna scent, intoxicating, makes of me a wreck.
A plebian yearning bawls me up, lame and stupefied,
And while gawking, I realize that I am starry-eyed.
The corners of her lips were drawn up slightly at the edge,
As if her heart in that one brilliant look did pledge.
Her cheeks were flushed – though unadorned – and quite high boned,
And kissed by sun, shone a beauteous olive undertone.
Ah! But those entrancing eyes! Wherever my gaze began-
It would, in time, revert back to those sweet talismen!
She wore the flowing silken garb of an angel-
And bore it as such; an ethereal mannered demoiselle.
It’s deeply wrinkled, semi-translucent material
Hugging her form in a way that well nigh seemed immoral.
I was so enrapt within her beauty’s deliciousness,
That craven thoughts misspent on her were foolishness.
Her concealed gazes in my direction tugged my stomach’s pit,
Whilst the legions of my purpose assailed her heart’s pulpit.
But still, no confidence could I draw on as of yet-
To discourse with mine modern equivalent of fair Juliet.
The moon in ashen pallor orbits nigh her feet,
As if it could, through symbiosis, become like her-elite!
The growing crescendo in my skull nears a woeful end,
As my lovely, lean, compos’ed sylph rises to ascend.
My mind disposed and at it’s end pillaging my wits,
I rouse myself and hasten after, feeling counterfeit.
Inauspicious thoughts bar themselves behind my brains-
As the demons of my musings start to writhe within my veins.
The melancholy distractions that plagued me ‘til recent
Retreat eagerly as my nymph draws her lips in sweet lament
And oh! Her voice! So mellifluous in tonality-
That when she spoke, to me was extinct all reality.
And oh! How she spoke! A poignant “Hello,” her only offering,
But her eyes spoke not of greeting – rather, more of everything!
