Once Upon A Ginge

ginge

 

 

A city boy at heart who loves the urban chaotic

The asphalt pathways and concrete concubines

Where sirens and horns replace the blackbirds at night

I was positive I could never leave that behind

But the lady I cherished asked me to visit her home

Fields dreamed and the beauty in which she’d grown

Where we could be the keepers of each others secrets

Off to nirvana of farmlands last stand

For me a world unknown but grand

 

The wind tugged lightly on her bright orange curls

Sweet smelling wind pressed close the polka dot dress

Outlining her form and betraying salacious intention

A fiery red silhouette against the waning prism of day

Waiting for evening to lock tight the bright door of sunshine

Obscuring the once vibrant fields of yellow green and black

The towering sunflowers bowed their heads good night

Allowing the dark sky to light up unto a diamond landscape

Lust beckoned in the Kansas field

Two lovers both prepared to yield

 

Cicadas sang cricket love songs to the distant horizon

Tongues tangoed furious an erotic passion dance

The still night air was soaked in aphrodisia essence

Arms legs and torso’s in a desperate search of belonging

The ground trembling and writhing with reckless abandon

Where we clutched tight a duet of burning desires

An explosive vortex shrieked shattering the glass moonlight

A cantata of emotions led a orchestra of sizzling emotion

Satisfying of our carnal hunger

Brought us to a peaceful slumber

 

 

 

 

In morning the solar king held golden specters of light

Above grains of our love reaching up to the heavens

Creating Waves of wheat, corn , and tall shining reeds

And a carpet of green for lovers to frolic and stroll

We tip-toed the sharp blades of grass whistling a tune

One lasting song hummed in a lifetime serenade

The grandeur of serene bliss in this captivating pasture

Far from the garden iron barriers of urban decay

Passions equaled and skilled

Two lovers hopes fulfilled

 

But it seems nothing lasts

So time passed

An old cliché that may seem contrite

But

She turned left

And I turned right

Yet saving our brief magical connection

Is out of sight

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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