Amberosia
There she sits pristine and demure
catching the center of mine eye
within a glint of thoughts impure
my breath exhales a forlorn sigh
Beyond few others to compare
a Duchess - far from being trite
I can not help but sit and stare
yearning her face to ingrain sight
Holds herself well, so full of grace
strong - yet passionate - her aura
illumines with her smiling face
long to bathe her in rose flora
I pine to be enwrapped amid
her eyes and silky golden locks
the thought leaves me feeling sordid
must keep inside Pandora's box
Glides across the floor with such ease
her scent it does intoxicate
penultimate sense which to please
never so much to satiate
Penult - there's one more important
her touch - which I will never know
no frets - I'm not a psychophant
with dreams of her 'round my pillow
A mere man who appreciates
the beauty that she possesses
one who just wants to demonstrate
the spell she has cast that vexes
There's no ulterior motive
for me penning these words on down
I know they aren't really pensive
nor fit for this Queen as a crown
Copyright © Keith Osborne | Year Posted 2016
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