missing
the taste
lips
brushing
lips
scribbling odes
fingertips
drizzling
scribbles
on bare skin:
my muse
you
eternally
you
my muse
mine
constant
inescapably
hewn
into
the fabric
of my soul
evergreen
inextricably
sewn
🌻
warm of heart, yes indeed,
luscious sparkling eyes, so difficult to read,
tender, kind, a generosity of spirit radiating gentle care towards species fragile,
with a dryness of humour that will forever make you smile,
almost impossibly irresistible,
elegant, classy, beautiful, attractive, sexy, sensually alluring, and oh so much more,
with wild beauty,
from the sunkissed beaches of Mandela bay, wind-swept Havana way,
sweltering nights of Polokwane far away,
this whole wide world and more:
that’s enough – geography can be a bore.
Now this person you most certainly know,
like an ocean of desire that perennially shall flow,
the mystery is before you, dear friend, so good luck to you all,
may your sherlockian deduction not hit a brick wall,
but friend, know this well, that in those beautiful eyes you may willingly drown,
wishing to never see, on that gorgeous face, even the hint of a frown,
and so,
the clues are here and there,
a quarter here, and there,
her name is ?
take a chance,
live a little,
and,
and,
and,
love somebody if you dare … … …
barefoot in the rain … … …
tiny splashes,
toes teasing toes,
as the rain lashes,
dancing under moonbeams,
hazy lazy clouds dripping nectar,
cheek to dripping cheek,
your hands in mine,
your eyes sparkling with a fire divine,
dancing barefoot in the rain,
with you, my whole, my own, my life,
dancing with you,
barefoot in the rain,
toes tickle toes,
far from this life’s pain,
away from the strife,
with you, within you,
I have found renewed life … … …
Scribbled Verse 