His Lady

Among fallen flowers

of outlived time

behold a lady

flesh upon flesh

heady and fresh

penetrating depths

opening her pores

glistening skin

to enfold him therein

layered shadows

of abstract depths

displayed before him

breezing through life

tossled hair

not a care

thistle in air

umbrella of life

tossed to the sky

watch her fly

seagull in flight

woman of night

hanging on stars

perpetrator of lust

prayed he

freedom of toes

prances own way

lose her, afraid he

slightly south of shady

this spirited lady,

give me her wind

to dance, prayed he

milady, my Katie

a brewing storm

cavorting in darkness

and light churning

convulses through

inner glow profanely

undulating in sweet water

of tidal life

splayed she

screaming emotions

in savage wind, so racy

his passion

arrayed he

zany thoughts

of passion gaiety 

grasping on to her

with slippery fingers

vaguely, vainly

can’t trap her spirit

water through fingers

catching her stardust

taking her body

gamely, gaily

hourly, daily

essence of incense

dispensed to intense

suspense of her presence

caged ambivalence

permeates soul

beckons him

threatens reason

pleasing, teasing

seizing, squeezing

robustly wade in

shady lady

degrade he

played he

raid he

symmetry of

sweet bones

bravely, sagely

behold his lady.