The Geisha’s Pout
The Geisha’s pout
She with the pert ruby lips of a spring bouquet of the tulip flower
She leans forward and her cross over kimono gapes
The pure nude skin of her decotalage rises and falls and forms to create her feminine shape
The Geisha’s pout
Is a Grace-a-Madonna when her knees bend to knee down
She says a prayer and Gabriel carries it in his palm and releases it on the wind
Zeus catches it and hands it to Hera and she send a shower of April dew blessings
The Geisha’s pout
She is a drink of lemon tea at night
So saccharine and treacly to the tongue
When doves cry, the injured soldiers in battle on the Baltic Islands,Nato’stroops march to the beat of drums
The Geisha’s pout
The girl of the British guy’s dreams
The wagasa in her hands is as pretty as her bright hazel pupils, as sharp as Si the feline with the cute meow
Her warm mouth, an exhilaration for Romeo, needing a dose of her Night Nurse swallowed right down
The Geisha’s pout
The secret of her presence of a Goddess is out
An explicable meaning that no man wants to lose
The lady saunters up to a gent to feel a juniper berry chest throb that oozes
The Geisha’s pout
The lassie who runs 3 miles over the moor to meet her lover to smooch under the wide arms of the silver birch
She falls so delicately like a feather, he scoops her up and sprinkles candied bites over the top of her ivory mound
She clasps his palm as he moves his body of an outlaw against her wanton figure of the mahogany haired Belle
The Geisha’s pout
The curat service of the little curly raven tressed Ariana Grande girl’s communion
She closes her eyes in silent praise and whispers out loud
The Geisha is the doyen of the Japanese lady, she graces us with her presence and grasps pearls and moonstone
The Geisha's Spell
She winds a string around her finger
He might of well been that minute thread of a minger
She looks and tosses him in her mind to the side
Oh what a girl to be as mean and flippant to this guy
Her skin is so decadent and he wants to feel
Only for the one who she truly cares, this curtain will fall to reveal her emotions to the man of her dreams
In the hours that are to come she will relax and give herself to the lover she has waited four hundred decades and a day
The night can't come too soon, in the lagoon of fantasy she bathes, emerges, her heart flutters and on the shore she lays
The Geisha's Gold
The Geisha’s Gold
In a distant land there is a vortex hiding a gleaming treasure
The De Beers trilogy couldn’t find the stash so huge it tipped the arch of the rainbows measure
The Geisha, a tournament of Hercules tasks for her love, the prize, a golden bullion of a maiden fit for a king
He of the pearly onyx set in a brilliant caduceus ring
The Geisha of the Japanese dynasty
A gold comb in her geiko shamada, magnificent on her dainty ebony crest
The jewels of the empress draped on her dress
The rich velvet cloak of cardinal shade, the all rise for the Excellency of the royal headdress
The Geisha, an orchid in a black desolate chopped, hacked and ruined Amazon
She opens like a flower, the secret trove of the bloom of the dianthus rose
The set in gold, priceless 128 carat yellow Tiffany diamond
The woman of the musketeer’s fantasy, a primrose
The lady, an Oriental ornament
So delicate and flimsy, her face a peachy pink marguerite daisy
The mermaid with the gold silk Rumplestilskin spun, falling around her neck, from the lagoon of Solomon
Her voice is a tinkle and the tone of the Celeste bell’s melody
The Geisha in all her splendid symphony
She cries a waterfall and is staggering and resplendent
She takes your breath away with her fascinating sublimeness, her Venus blessed beauty of the sister Mixtli
The Geisha’s purse is overflowing with the gold of the Kabali Mine of the Democratic Congo Republic
The Mikado gold shines through her blouse of sheer white cheesecloth
Her worth is the dowry of the bride of the Sultan of Ottoman
The Geisha’s bosom rises slowly as she expels her faint sweetheart air
Her lips part and are the shape of the candy apple on the stick from the Scarborough Fair
Megan, the Duchess, the caramel skinned damsel of charming Prince Harry
The Geisha of his visions since a boy, he has won his enchantress train of 500 bars of gold and come full circle
Now she dances with him in the Diana Fountain far from his dreams as a soldier in the British Garrison
At night completely and utterly at his amorous advances, her eyes close and she falls deep into his adoring world
He holds this swan as she melts and is as soft as the downy feathers of the skylark
The Geisha has relaxed and is at the mercy of this Casanova
She whispers to him and kisses his face as an angel in a quiet chorus of the piccolo’s hark
He gazes at her, he knows he is about to consume and possess her, the feline Queen of the cat kingdom, the puma
The Geisha's Gold
Information
Elizabeth Ann
Email:
elizabeth_annpoet55@hotmail.com
Websites:
elizabeth-ann.org.uk
the-skylarks-flight.net
facebook: elizabethann.poet55