Voyeurs and Jasmine

I knew he would be there. I was expecting him,
I glanced in anticipation of him, as I stepped alone
Into the thick darkness of the night.
He was hidden from me in the surreal
Shadows that formed images
Of a band of gypsies attired in bandanas,
Loose flowing garb, and glittering
Shimmering jewels
The spirit of the visions of my mind
Stirred a haunting, wildness within my soul.
I could hear the ba-boom, ba-boom, boom, boom
Of the beating of distant drums,
Resounding feverishly and more rapidly
Even as I listened.
I felt the intensity of the heat of the cadence,
And without thought, I freed myself of my,
Suddenly restricting, white linen frock
To dance shamelessly and carelessly
In the arms of the hot, humid, sultry night.
A thousand eyes watched me as danced,
Swirling, and twirling my body, unconstrained
By inhibitions, rules, and standards of society.
I reveled in my newly found freedom
As I yielded to the excitement of passion in this dance.
He was watching me. I knew he was there,
Though I pretended not to notice.
And it was for him, and him alone, that I performed.
He brought night blooming jasmine for me,
Whose delicate sweet fragrance
Complimented the lusty aroma of magnolias,
That teased and taunted my senses.
Fire burst on the horizon, casting its reflection
On restless waves of a moving, stirring ocean.
“Ahh”, spoke I, as I turned to face the embers
Of his warm glow;
“You decide to reveal yourself, I see”.
I smiled, knowing that for now, at this moment in time
We were together, yet, alone,
The man in the moon
And me.


Leah Wilson © 2006