Women Versus Woman, 2016
Love ones; excuse these urges I now purge,
The brief kiss that always exits her door,
The encore of lust, no permanent words.
But I must tour, cure this curious lure.
The plural roses, sweet culprits, steal me.
I yearn to multiply this term called queen;
Perhaps the youth of man, tricks thee,
Yet this passion married to thrill seems keen.
And while these eyes may add, still fond I am.
Fond of the rare court, she will always be,
The way she humbles, this lesser term of man.
Yes, now I may spread, but retire? Yes to thee.
I pray this case settles before long,
And wins her promise: fate is never wrong.
Copyright © Jiril Clemons | Year Posted 2016
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment