Her smile a notch above a frown
The subtle way she drags her gown
Drifting to the garden tub
Slipping off her black lace gloves
Evening of unwinding wrath
Absinthe and a bubble bath
Ignorant to clock-hands turning
Sleeps content with candles burning
Velvet curtains brushed aside
Sleeping, soaking, Devil’s pride
I find her in a sultry moat
Asleep where lotus candles float
…Where that trail of petals led
In the room where dress was shed
I thought I heard her hum a hymn
Escaping through subconscious whim
Her eyelids twitch above her smile
Her hair descending to the tile
For her thoughts I’d offer pence
Red lips hushed in confidence
Her marinated body froths
In body oil and castile broth
Half asleep, beneath her breath,
She tells me romance isn’t dead
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Excellent rhyming couplets.
A most accomplished write!
Peace, love and light,
Amber
This is WONDERFUL!!!
Christine