the wreath of love ..

 

by-Aily-Torres-on-Unsplash-e1526393041299

 

 

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

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