such thick black lovely brows stands beneath her beautiful dark eyes.
these are the eyes that tend to flight the spectre of love upon every man it sees.
The spectre of love that pulls anyone inside her hypnotic beauty,
gathering one to her realm of charm and lure,
binding one into a infatuated gleamy continuum of enticing pulchritude,
which might seemingly tend to immerse him inside her gleaming gel of bait.
The diva’s spectre might even arouse and mesmerize one alluring him to her enchanted aura.
Beside her window glasses with a cup of coffee and a book from danielle steel,
She seems to be on a muse looking through the window glass with the beautiful pouring silent rain.
The lovely daylight drizzle through the closed glass doors sans the sound of it.
Drawn in by the scintillating scene of the mood’s medley and tired of her routine,
She seems to be on a muse looking at the sizzling rain outside,
trying to converge her insides may be,
perhaps a trance they might call it sometimes.
May be she is trying to weave her threads of desires and passion
upon her delusional tapestry,
Should be playing inside her tunes of love,
that yodels inside her strings of longing and yearn
while painting her mind’s awe,
its love and fervour,
the girlie desires and
the passion behind,
its mellifluous floral blooms
of the daydream magnolia,
shading its colors in undulating fragments
of lure and lustre,
hazily picturing inside her
woven tapestry of a lady’s muse,
like a starry rain,
like a song of love,
inside her melancholic reverie.
She is immersed inside
in the soothing river of
a daydream delusion,
in the pleasasnt warmth
of a lady’s muse and
in its underlying solitary melodrama,
floating inside her kissing reverie.