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Under the oak tree.

The lagoon swam passed the hills of lilies and the verdant of serene.

The aura in which she sat, a seraphim Rhea would grovel at beauty’s keen.

More than my lady in Red, her smile, as patient as herself,

Striking down hearts in fringe of humility, as pout as her ego

Curves as silhouetting as an eclipse to mother Earth’s pride

Accentuates of eyes so bright, light took its ride

She strung the same notes that reminded man ‘loneliness knows not’

She opened the quotes of Legend, Romeo returned from the death of Juliet not

Merely a madness, it’s not a rumor she consummated me in her lips

Far from thoughts my mind saw passed her hips

Striking a pose to the cams of my red little heart

Her photos to the world’s dandy ears, flipping eyes in memory scat.

Jazz to my ears, songs she made me dance.

To a feeling in my oasis an embroidered stance,

So comfortable in the arms of her words,

We rested in the bridge promise built with love’s lords

Two lovebirds, in the nests of its stroke

Doubted suns and envious moons wished they were the bloke.

Craving for her pivot, she turned my flame on

Locking me in love’s bidding ash, my music yet sung.

Snowy memories fade in a Whiskey’s lullaby

Under the oak tree, it poked me from the grave to great the blue sky.


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