its the kind of lazy afternoon gloom
you would end up with in some rare while.
she is inside this milder gloomy daze
today unlike her mundane.
The kind of a scintillating mood
While you dream about sizzling paris
When its lovers dance and romance, kiss and caress,
Under the grey skies in its brimming rainy evening
feeling the heavenly drizzle.
When you muse about your beau, love and all that jazz
brewing the wildest of dreams
brimming in with the girlie desires and passion
that burns so bright like sunshine,
that glows as in the flame of twine,
beneath the warmth and brace of the sensual fire,
alongside the love song of aphrodite
who wears the lovely myrtle’s wreath
beautifying her inner effulgence and redolence,
and the highness her exquisite intimacy.
The charming girl of twenty two
looks gorgeous in her sexy white sleeve less attire.
Her dark black braid and the thin long necklace
the pedant that kisses her bosom underneath the white neckline,
makes you wonder is the very aphrodite in here,
perhaps the greek myth goddess has descended down
in a feminine incarnation with such exquisite beauty.
weaving in her dreams and desires
she does her wreath of lovely roses and lavender
singing her songs of passion and love,
she yearns for her days of roses and wine
she dances alone to her afternoon medley
grooving amidst the sizzling jazz
perhaps trying to migrate onto a wonderland salsa
in that gleaming ambien of sparkles and white
beside the white drapes and butterflies
flying around fluttering her wings
kissing the flowers woven in her wreath of love.
such a scintillating tango it is
blended in with her yearn and song,
the merry and hay,
the wine and roses,
the longing and love.
weaving in her dreams and desires
she does her wreath of lovely roses and lavender
perhaps she is writing her intimate letters
of love and passion heart inked
in deep felt romance, desires and longing.
ceaseless she seems to be in writing
though the count has crossed hundred and more
piling up her shelves.
as the beautiful flowers in wreath
blended in with her yearn and song,
the letters conveyed the girlie’s man
her charm and splendour
the merry and hay,
the wine and roses,
the longing and love.
singing her songs of passion and love,
she dances alone to her afternoon medley
my random contemplations 