© G.V. 08-25-2013 All rights reserved
© G.V. 02-07-2013
Nesreen = wild rose
Contest: Softly sensual
Sponsor: Nette Onclaud
and post notes and photos about your poem.
The luring, dancing Nymph performs her chore,
unfolds in air, resplendently and splays
datura flow in mind her moves implore,
her vision passed but wraith on thoughts, she stays.
Across her altar's sacrificial tolls,
her face, her scent, will challenge and indulge,
manipulates and in half light enthralls,
ethereal to conquer and divulge.
Instinctive is her dance, the crowd accourts,
she flows in veins, red aconite domain,
no fate will be as sweet (but one she thwarts)
as thousand lengths to feel of brunette mane.
And triumphant aggresses with applause,
(blade-splendid in her bedleh and shalwars),
unfolds her wings like desert hawk that claws,
betrayed of minds with apathy ignores.
She dances, and her finger's cymbals rings,
(incursion of her attar whiff and rye);
hence splendorous, through airy moves she stings
the victims of her charm, that wish to die.
© 08-25-2013, G.V., All rights reserved