Beauty abides, and as her lover,
I lift her veil to see transparent eyes glimmering
with an enticement worthy of seduction.
Touching some primordial passion,
she wreaks havoc on my senses.
And graces me with unspoken words
that promise delightful pleasure.
Beauty reigns as Queen supreme.
Upon her throne she emanates majesty
with an exquisite demeanor and
I stand back intimidated and shy.
Who can reframe this emotion?
Not a poet or artists brush.
Her soft rolling hills and gentle valleys;
expectations of undiscovered treasures
fire an imaginative pose
I am bound up in a mystic rush
that dominates like a drug's addiction.
And in a exotic haze I lie dreaming
of ephemeral caresses,
highly charged currents
that flow unrestricted around
her coveted reactive spaces.
Alone, with thoughts in time displaced,
I wonder, does she entrance all others?
Or in my silent muse am I the only one
transformed and felled by her abstract beauty?
Her allure is enduring, enshrined for all to see.
The recherche picture of her memory
never grows old and she still remains
indelibly imprinted on my erotic mind.
10-12-2012 Revised 9-25-2013
A question for you...
1.) Is the poem about a woman?
2.) or is it about a beautiful mountainous valley?
Copyright © Allan Koven