Darkness Sweeps the Noisy City
Into a Moment of Calm, & before
A Semblance of Soul could Stir,
The Many Lights were Thrust On.
The time past dusk left the moon,
Perching high in the night sky,
A mere cotton ball, unable to cool
The baked Earth of the summer day.
Walking along these basked paths, which
In their heat desperately try to Melt
Their way into my day-long Chastity, Beads
Of Sweat Leave me, fall to their advances.
While They evaporate into nothingness,
I walk Past Along a path that leads
To a tiny Diner, Dark Amber Light
From where, Leaks out into the Night.
Just Two tables fill the quaint space,
An Old man with A Pipe Sits in One,
Fuming Alone, filling with circles
Of Smoke that Dance a way to escape.
I take the other table in the corner,
Sink into the hard chair, which Creaks,
Ask for a glass of White Sparkling Wine,
To Twinkle in this Starless Night.
Deep Rivers of Age, Course Along the
Old man's Visage, Weathered look he wears,
And spews like an ol' vintage steam train,
Hoary Like him, That crossed many a terrain.
The old man's smokes billow away,
Where the wind carries it away,
No, it is not a breeze, that i see,
In stepped a Lady, behind the mist I see.
As the Fog vanishes, the old man douses
his pipe, in the presence of a fine Lady,
An ol' Train like he would chug to a Stop,
Smoke Snuffs Out Lest it tarnish Frail Beauty.
She ponders where to sit, Or not,
The other table is full, of Dishes and Age,
On the other Glitters a Glass of Lonely wine,
She sits in front of me, with a smile.
I sneak a glance each time over my glass,
Once, at those twitching red lips deciding
What to choose, Twice, at her long curls,
Wishing they spiral, into me, into me.
It takes me 2 glasses to push the glass away,
And I now without a shield, without a prop,
Feel foolishly ready, arch to reveal myself,
What Am I doing? I hold my chin and look away.
I look away, and hear a soft chuckle,
I look away, past her Pretty Floral Skirt,
I look away, and a whiff of her fragrance
Brings me back Snugly, Towards her, Into her.
They bolster Me to look her in the Eye, In that
faint amber light, Spirals of her Milky White Eyes
Ensnare me into those Dark Oceans of mystery,
Lured by them, I drown, I shriek, pleasurably.
The lady of Beauty, Beautiful eyes is she..
What Is time, I not know now, I Sway there,
As those Eyes Puppet me, Where Am I, Am I
Where I need to be, Why What where and why? When
My I is killed, by the Lady of Beautiful Eyes.
The Feast is past, Now is the time to part,
She asks for Dessert, No don't desert me I weep,
"Blueberry cheese Cake" said she, "Make that two"
"One for me, and another for my ............"
The Old man Smiles at Us both as He Leaves,
A Black Hat to his Chest, Blessing? Or Wishing,,
A Radio kicks in with a Mellow Old Tune,
"Life is made Sweet, In a Moment or Two..."
Into a Moment of Calm, & before
A Semblance of Soul could Stir,
The Many Lights were Thrust On.
The time past dusk left the moon,
Perching high in the night sky,
A mere cotton ball, unable to cool
The baked Earth of the summer day.
Walking along these basked paths, which
In their heat desperately try to Melt
Their way into my day-long Chastity, Beads
Of Sweat Leave me, fall to their advances.
While They evaporate into nothingness,
I walk Past Along a path that leads
To a tiny Diner, Dark Amber Light
From where, Leaks out into the Night.
Just Two tables fill the quaint space,
An Old man with A Pipe Sits in One,
Fuming Alone, filling with circles
Of Smoke that Dance a way to escape.
I take the other table in the corner,
Sink into the hard chair, which Creaks,
Ask for a glass of White Sparkling Wine,
To Twinkle in this Starless Night.
Deep Rivers of Age, Course Along the
Old man's Visage, Weathered look he wears,
And spews like an ol' vintage steam train,
Hoary Like him, That crossed many a terrain.
The old man's smokes billow away,
Where the wind carries it away,
No, it is not a breeze, that i see,
In stepped a Lady, behind the mist I see.
As the Fog vanishes, the old man douses
his pipe, in the presence of a fine Lady,
An ol' Train like he would chug to a Stop,
Smoke Snuffs Out Lest it tarnish Frail Beauty.
She ponders where to sit, Or not,
The other table is full, of Dishes and Age,
On the other Glitters a Glass of Lonely wine,
She sits in front of me, with a smile.
I sneak a glance each time over my glass,
Once, at those twitching red lips deciding
What to choose, Twice, at her long curls,
Wishing they spiral, into me, into me.
It takes me 2 glasses to push the glass away,
And I now without a shield, without a prop,
Feel foolishly ready, arch to reveal myself,
What Am I doing? I hold my chin and look away.
I look away, and hear a soft chuckle,
I look away, past her Pretty Floral Skirt,
I look away, and a whiff of her fragrance
Brings me back Snugly, Towards her, Into her.
They bolster Me to look her in the Eye, In that
faint amber light, Spirals of her Milky White Eyes
Ensnare me into those Dark Oceans of mystery,
Lured by them, I drown, I shriek, pleasurably.
The lady of Beauty, Beautiful eyes is she..
What Is time, I not know now, I Sway there,
As those Eyes Puppet me, Where Am I, Am I
Where I need to be, Why What where and why? When
My I is killed, by the Lady of Beautiful Eyes.
The Feast is past, Now is the time to part,
She asks for Dessert, No don't desert me I weep,
"Blueberry cheese Cake" said she, "Make that two"
"One for me, and another for my ............"
The Old man Smiles at Us both as He Leaves,
A Black Hat to his Chest, Blessing? Or Wishing,,
A Radio kicks in with a Mellow Old Tune,
"Life is made Sweet, In a Moment or Two..."
