Strike Up The Band, Sweet Lady

Strike up the band, Sweet Lady

I have the feeling we need to dance

Your Southern Charms come calling

& I’m feeling I might get my chance

I’ll compliment your lovely gown

& whisper all my devious thoughts

At the sight of your enticing blush

My nipples grow a little more taut

This Is Life.

This is life. This is reality.
When the pretty words drip away
When the party’s over
You’ve still got to wake & face the day

Digital lovers lavish heaps of praise
Complimenting you on your magnificent blog
While you neglect the physical world
Always remember that pain & loneliness are analog

Hanging With Beach Bums & Bashful Babes

Photo by Nathan Cowley on Pexels.com

Hanging with beach bums & bashful babes
Swimming in the surf on late Spring days
Colorful flavors poured gently over ice
Skin glowing after hours in the pleasant rays


I thought I saw a Sea Hag along the sand
Though she revealed herself to be a Siren
Coaxing & teasing me with her demure allure
Whispering that I might be a modern Lord Byron


Uncomfortable with compliments of any sort
I quietly pull out my pen to jot down an ode
Her eyes grow wide, then a smirk & a wink
Simultaneously my mind, heart & loins explode

The Wind Howling At Midnight

 

The wind howling at midnight
Broken windows – open to the outside air
Exposed to the communal by-passer
Her soul had fallen into disrepair
Fatigue & listless emotions manifesting
Immune to careless compliments
Time to pause & regroup her focus
Happiness born from common sense