Might words draw an artwork around her beauty,
She beget that fair that will cause eye sudden stir.
A man’s glance to ask for sunlight in a stream
Would accentuate sensuality ease frivolity.
Oh then we do wonder what words exist in her,
When in watch, she will heads turn it seem.
A walk would give light to her every step
As perhaps imagine linens do tease inside
A world of private affair, only meant for one.
In that integrity of Grace, we might worship
A sinewy storm of her surreal glance aside
A measured smile, a breeze in privacy undone.
We would that opportunity survey elegance
With eye alive, I do delight we share a glance.
Her robes did convert her elegance
into a certain delight,
the long, sinewy nature of legs,
drawn inside the fabric,
a hand could reach and tease skin,
the notion needed to dive inside,
yet for now she was spectacular,
the ribboned designs,
rainbows and blended lines
caressed her body in a way
that eyes would follow forever,
wanting everything inside,
a thoughtful exploration
would carry me further,
only if when I glanced in her eyes …
The time has arrived,
like the ticking of an internal clock,
sinewy lines please,
with a peek of heaven,
in the morning sunlight’s
captured apex – there is a mirage
of wonder waiting our eyes,
we will be left in a delicious
state of artistry.
Have a look,
get inside the moment
in your head,
feel the sweet tease
of tender thighs,
holding court while
the common air
of humanity in a race
for the searing heat of summer
time, stands with certain
heart shaped glows.
Purse your lips when, please,
in the summer we may feel that breeze
Sweep me inside,
I’ll settle your slacks,
the concierge smiles knowing
we belong together this afternoon,
fall through the door as you step out of your ankles,
I do love your hands making me wet
soaking my sundress far beyond
the heat of Central Park
I knew this morning why I dressed the way I do
just for you,
so many you I have searched for in morning walks,
settling for the M.E.T. by mid-afternoon,
where then I would find a discreet gallery
to settle my nerves
always on exhibit,
always on fire in the middle of the day.
Yet I did allow the linens to cover the windows,
even though I put my hands on the sill as you
lifted my dress over my head,
I was positioned, ready, wanting,
legs spread anticipating you,
when then you lifted me off the floor,
I was stunned and unafraid of where I might land
we both knew …
while the park chatter chuckled a floor below
*photo found on Tumblr
I’m driving home again,
sharpened wits, known vulnerability
that echoes a time when she referenced
‘railroad man’ sweet to my ears.
Now as I recall the time has turned to years
the novelty, the desire, the passion remains,
often there’s that wonder whether, if how, this might
have been conducted in some sweet, delicious manner,
the trains might still be running.
I know now instead of looking for the station,
imaginary and analogous,
I’m already well past the tracks,
facing the music on the next horizon.
Funny how a sunny day will muddy those tracks,
sundress and provocative silks alive,
my what a gorgeous day
to dream about that internal passion,
the fruits of every man and woman’s fantasy …
Humanity’s desire, will hope, certainly never sway,
Wild reflections on railroads forever running tracks.
*image courtesy of Colour Box
a spacial interior,
soft chairs, and hardbacks with high tops,
a couple of workers lost in motion
designing their day together,
behind the counter all the tasks at hand,
he walks in finds an open table,
easy enough to find
in a quiet sort of way today.
He lets his fantasy remain in check
with the knowledge of understanding
not everyone, every passerby, each new customer
has arrived to be on display for him today.
Yet, there she was on this brilliant sunlit day,
shades of white pearl to match her immediate
lustre, that innocence of beauty and grace,
mingled inside a floral pattern of spaghetti strap
mystique to draw the eye, to certainly change his day.
Look away, look away he suggests in his mind,
to avoid any notice of drool down the side of cheek.
Perhaps a quick glance and smile, yet that is missed,
instead just her sheer beauty is well in sight.
Ah, to be preoccupied enough to catch her eye,
to have her decision be based on his desire
the fantasy begins to take hold with silent delight,
her order claimed, and in that quick minute,
she’ll choose the outside on such a beautiful day.
So the question remains while he ponders inside
How might we mingle in such an obvious way?
Oh the love of fantasy,
to … know so delicious a mystery.
When I look at you,
walking past my eyes,
in the sunlight’s magic mirror,
I do hope your lovely eyes,
will match up with that fire inside,
the one you have allowed all of us to create,
in our own private fantasy.
Oh to be with you in the morning,
when awaken to the fresh hot energy of the sun,
hands sift through fabric with intent,
to know which threads,
create your own self-discovery,
while we all walk along in a certain order
of predictable accountability.
Walk free with delight,
your sexual persona
meets us all when streams of sunlight,
do certain, light up,