my imaginary centerfold
she calls to me
without saying a word as she
appears against her orb
her feathered friend of prey
perched on a limb of gold
watches silently looking in to
my lonely world
and in her eyes I see the bright
that fills the full moons light
with twinkles from her distant flight
the seer has come to me this night
I see her look so radiantly
caressing down her neck and back
her hair it flows so ardently
to rest upon her breast deliberately
her beauty deep her beauty bold
her beauty hiding her deadly cold
this mystique woman from another world
is but a picture of my own imaginary
centerfold
Earl S. Jackson
Aug 2006
Copyright © 2006 Earl S. Jackson, all rights reserved.
Poetry by Earl Jackson
Read 675 times
Written on 2006-09-18 at 06:16
Tags Contemporary
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