It Was A One-Eyed Kind Of Morn

It was a one-eyed kind of morn
With evening’s festivities going awry
I scrawled out all I could remember
Once a gentleman, turned drunken guy

Slight images of a lovely form
Olfactory sparks upon my brain
Sketching the party’s guest list
But no new faces could remain

Racking my skull for a proper memory
Writing down every & each detail
Compiling a list to rediscover
I’m trying to think, but it’s to no avail

A faceless gown with affectionate gloves
Somehow my mind is able to recall
Cognitive fragments begin to linger
Clouded out by last night’s alcohol

Scenes slowly begin to return
I believe we’re out on the dance floor
An embrace of smoldering desire
Yet I couldn’t figure out any more

Scraps of notes spread before me
No identity to place upon the truth
Scant reason to be shy in my search
Basking in honesty of my lapsed youth

Cobwebs have been sparsely lifted
Won’t think of her in the past tense
Her ghostly touch encourages me yet
We shall meet again, I firmly sense

To hold her with determined spirit
Seems fantastical at this sad rate
Yet she’s left fingerprints upon me
Remaining until I succumb to my fate

Lounging Early In The Morning

Photo by Jeffrey Czum on Pexels.com

Lounging early in the morning
She wore an animal print I couldn’t recall
I poured another cup to erase the cobwebs
A chilly morning; slipping past Fall

She was sleek & beautiful, a deadly shade
Overly dramatic in the best possible sense
Passion in abundance for my sole benefit
Edging to a climax at our soul’s expense

Blue Skies Are Returning

Photo by Rachel Claire on Pexels.com

Blue skies are returning
We’re running headlong into Spring
Shake out all these Winter cobwebs
Let the sunshine wake my soul to sing

The flowers are returning to the earth
Seasons change and its turning warm
Let’s smile as we head outside
Time to stretch out your glorious form

Your dress looks lovely upon your skin
Alas, its time to remove some of these clothes
Let them fall away with Wintertime sadness
A blessing of rising mercury, Heaven knows

My thoughts are strikingly inappropriate
I suggest we blame it on this stifling heatwave
We’re in need of getting into the fresh air
To be free and once again unabashedly misbehave