Strain of heart
by fumenous tint,
the lased love
of her luring scent.
Lingering sparkle
in endless dark
illuminating strings
of her golden harp .
Purfumenous
trail of trance
drawn to the making
of pure romance .
Jet fueled desire in
altitude swirl
the comparison contrasted
by a jewel and pearl .
Daring moves
repeated and numerous
untamed heart carried
Inside the air purfumenous.
Magnitude heir
her commands, relentless
to the peasants attracted
to the twisted resistance .
I was always told
that she was trouble
but no one loved trouble
as much as me .
© Copyright 2019 ChristopherErick. All rights reserved.
Comments
I kind of had the impression that men weren't to keen on perfume, but you know, CE, this poem proves me wrong. Excellent work.
Haha . I just now seen this comment. And I don't understand why. In my opinion there is nothing better than the smell of a woman's perfume. Lol
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