The Woman

There she is dressed to kill...
Her green eyes reveal the soul within
Emotion it lurks beneath alabaster skin...

Watching her, from afar...
Often I’m taken by her poise...
Mature and confident, sexy and sweet...
Alluring and passionate, nice legs and feet...
Numbly I worship her forsaking all others...

Oh but she teases this misbegotten male...
For she does use me for her pleasure to my pain...

My task is but to please her...
Yet she grants me much in return...

Dream, I do, of auburn tresses...
Red golden locks, her soft siken dresses...
Each day finds me thinking of her...
Asking if she’s really mine now...
More over for all time...
She owns me too - body and soul...


Phoebus
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