she was uninspiring, pallid and bland
ivory insipidness owned her senses
she had never tasted the sweetness
of rich caramel on her sharp tongue
nor danced to a sensual latin beat
her cold feet restricted to two steps
her hips bound up in tight ribbons
of staid similitude, vanilla boredom
he was bronze with black diamond eyes
that ambiguously undressed her soul
without wasting time to look at her
for she was too lily white to appreciate
the intrepid flavor of his caramel kisses
too self absorbed with hues and shades
to traverse the broad primordial galaxy
of a midnight universe in his ebony eyes
so she never watched the stars rumba
under the canopy of an endless ballroom
nor felt the earth moving beneath her
to a steady beat of ancient native drums
for she was too uninspiring, pallid, bland
there would be no bronze upon her ivory
she’d not allow her frozen vanilla cream
to melt beneath his sweet hot caramel
Woa . . . This is HOT! Ice cream no more, touch or not touched. This is one of the best poems I have read on Authorsden. Bravo and thank you! Sexaaaaa hugs~
I wonder what sadness led her to reside within this icy domain...
Perhaps one day she will have an unforgettable experience that allows her to throw caution to the wind!...and his sweet hot caramel will melt her fozen vanilla cream for ever...
So skilfully written...Admiration...
Hugs, Diana...
This, Belle, is a well crafted call
to the staid to break free, cut loose,
embrace Eros and Aprodite
discard all..
and speaking of desserts and desserts only
hot caramel topping is right up there.
Stunning, Belle you bring the imagery of the heart to life with such stunning descriptives and soft sensual desires...can so see this couple on the dance floor under the stars...
What we are seeing here is the development and steady growth of an artist taking her art to higher and higher levels. No false flattery here.
Here we have the metaphor of caramel-vanilla move beyond color issues to celebrate joy itself, joy in its various incarnations--ultimately hinting at, stating and exploring the question what does it mean to be alive.
Well done.
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This book is a limited edition, and copies are hand numbered. It will NOT be available through Amazon or other distributors. You must purchase it directly from the author or from this site. It is hard-back (not the spiral bind seen
David Hightower’s lyrically expansive meditation on the whims of fate and the unpredictability of the human condition fill the pages of THE HANGING MAN DREAMS with thrilling music and mesmerizing imagery. Hightower’s richly infused voice echoes the e
This book represents a thirty-day period of my poetry journal. Each poem addresses
the dominant thoughts occupying my mind during the early morning hours of a given
day.
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Perhaps one day she will have an unforgettable experience that allows her to throw caution to the wind!...and his sweet hot caramel will melt her fozen vanilla cream for ever...
So skilfully written...Admiration...
Hugs, Diana...
to the staid to break free, cut loose,
embrace Eros and Aprodite
discard all..
and speaking of desserts and desserts only
hot caramel topping is right up there.
John
Man, I'd like to melt beneath sweet hot caramel, never mind the two step!
Be well,
Christine
Mary
Amor
Here we have the metaphor of caramel-vanilla move beyond color issues to celebrate joy itself, joy in its various incarnations--ultimately hinting at, stating and exploring the question what does it mean to be alive.
Well done.
Love You
Tony
Peace, love and light,
Amber