Ribbons Penned in Scarlet
Frivolity has taken me along a trail of ink
Ribbons penned in scarlet, by a man of whom I think
Sits astride a stallion with a feather in his braid
Longing for a damsel to come share the bed he’s made
A moon of blue looks from above to pay him company
Together in their solitude, he’s just as blue as she
The silver stars may lead him to the path that he should take
He watches, ever patiently, and listens for the sake
Of everything that’s beautiful that he has longed to touch
Beyond the realm of written word, or fantasy, and such
Something warm to hold onto when nights are long and cold
A little piece of heaven with which he can grow old
Whispers in the silence speak so softly in his ear
The language of the lover that he wishes to be near
Seductive recitations that he cannot evade
He pens his incantations and persistently persuades
Those sultry innuendos, like shadows on the walls
In iridescent candlelight, that rise up as they fall
Taking all his breath away, and raising beads of sweat
Over glistening skin, so smooth, skin I haven’t yet
Touched
©Kay Salady
Posted on August 22, 2013, in poetry and tagged beads of sweat, candlelight, damsel, fantasy, feather, frivolity, incantations, ink ribbons, innuendos, language of the lover, little piece of heaven, moon of blue, recitations, silver stars, smooth skin, touched, trail of ink, whispers in the silence, written word. Bookmark the permalink. 4 Comments.
Wonderful
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Thank you, Anders. I truly appreciate your delightful comments.
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You’re most welcome, dear Kay. hugs and lots of love.
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Right back at ya, Anders!
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