Monday, 11 February 2013

She glides through the bar

Cuddles, puddles of affection
yearning to linger,
Pupils locked in silent conversation
her cheek seducing my finger.
Face, figure and essence
rash remnant of Venus,
Conveyor belt of our conscious
ferrying fondness between us.
A mile is a league too close,
a foot is an inch too far,
And I smile a sly smile of knowing
as she glides through the bar.

Mindful, meaningful twinning of limbs
Compliment blending of form,
Familiar crevice contours
Delightful, delicate, warm.
Eye-closing, heart-pulsing nearness of her
casting all logic aside,
Pounding, resounding resonant beat
approaching cosmic divide,
Tradition and caution gone to the loft
as I order another undrinkable jar,
And the till and her eyes tinkle in tune
As she glides through the bar.

And I spied her seven times in a row,
A truly remarkable week,
Never proud, never loud never brash,
I could scarcely describe her as meek.
The hooded power of embrace
can’t sully, sunder or sever
This fabric of closeness we weave
Cuddling  together forever.
And these are the thoughts I favour
She makes me feel like a Czar
And I watch and I wonder and wait
While she glides through the bar.

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