Ode to Venus.

i
In the blue hew of your clear crystal eyes,
I am witness to the birth heaven's child;
For they hold a pure,unfettered resonance.
and in the flavour of your tender parted lips,
So sensual,and bountiful with honeyed sips,
My soul rests, with a heavy permanence.
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For You raise me up, on petalled parted wings,
Yet heavily set me down within shuddered swirls;
where crunched cyclones, of shattered air explode.
You then caress me, with virgin sighs sublime,
Yet with a smile of sheer roasted plum delight;
You cleave my bloated,crimson soul in two.
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with my nerves raw by well ridden desire;
I long to feel the touch of your iced hands.
So I can rest, with dreams free from barbed wire;
and dwell upon your trembling,sacred lands.
Oh how I loath That shy,inner, well paged self,
that guards with shards the reality of who I am.
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For it's with gentle relish that I recall;
Your coy smile upon that heated summer night.
And how gladly we wrapped ourselves so small;
Yet gladder still, so tender and so very tight.
where we wrestled,for a moment,lost amid a thrall;
Then buried ourselves,deep in sensual delight.
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I recall shaded fragrant cinnamon threads;
That arose, full upon that glowing golden dawn.
While you slowly choose to allow my hands drawn,
To rest;upon your tender-scented undressed nest.
That, with my slender keys,I then unlocked,
To then digest your heady sacred dampness.
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I recall myself slowly begin to rise redefined;
Tender and eager to reach within your sanctum.
Where sated souls do seldom rest, yet still find
the joy known to all, as contentment’s castle.
And I, like a glorious servant to Cleopatra,
feel near enthroned, by your healing passion.
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For in your gentle caress heaven is revealed;
and in your kiss I know the dove does freed.
For my love I know above my weighted shield,
There rests a joy with delight and then sigh,
As rippled waves from within you are released.
Freeing this soul from chains that blind and bind.
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But now as we meet on these aged steady streets,
Our eyes slowly wrestle yet never seem to nestle;
And our words wanly from our now,silent lips.
Yet… there rests the hint of a ready hope...
That perhaps those promises we had so vainly made
Could possibly just as easily- be broke?