death is a beautiful woman
with eyes that flash pale green
her fair curvaceous form
hides mysteries unknown, unseen
she leans into your midnight
and whispers of pleasures untried
she covers the darkness of her light
with a myriad of sensual lies
death is a long black hearse
disguised as a mercedes benz
and all who take a ride in her
will never return again
death is a beautiful woman
who bids you to stop and rest
after a day of cruel infamy
on soft pillows of her breasts
death is a beautiful woman
long hair floating in the breeze
and all objections to her attentions
have strong men begging on knees
she is never moved by entreaties
from men who fear her power
she’ll wrap you in cold empty arms
and control your final hour
death is a distant concert
of instruments not tuned and played
by a symphony of unseen entities
above an unmarked grave
fear not then the reaper
with the final claim on thee
for death is a beautiful woman
who holds the eternal key
Awesome. I'll just bet a bundle that you and Jerry Bolton could put your heads together and be awesome at these type of poems. It's worth a try . Your poetry always makes me blush.
Susan