Musings by The Poet Loriet
Vagabond
Your tan skin is Sahara desert,
camels draped in rainbow burlap,
bejewelled bags brimming with
exotic grape leaves, Chai tea,
dried orange rinds, pomegranates,
cinnamon, cloves, cumin.
Your dark eyes flutter hints of
starry ebony musk, lunar cycles,
danger of forty thieves pursuing
young innocent women leaving
them amnesic of feigned purity,
making them howl like
savage beasts in the chilly night.
Our cold noses rub Eskimo-like,
reminiscent of icy tundra,
glaciers, biting wind...
We don't want to leave
our fur-lined bedding where
we spoon like lifelong lovers
in front of a roaring fire.
Your voice resonates
dark Belgian chocolate, and
each word is a coated strawberry,
drizzled with sweetness,
falling delicately on paper-lace
snowflakes...
They trail you like baby breath
blooms tossed at your feet
by giggling little girls
adorned in satin dresses,
ribbons woven thru silk hair.
Your kiss leads me on a treasure hunt.
I uncover ancient mysteries hidden in
the Pyramids of Egypt.
I'm aware of the curses that enshroud
each tomb of gold.
I am suddenly Cleopatra,
snakes winding our arms and legs,
binding us together as I become
blissfully paralyzed,
helpless against
your charms.
Your exposed chest, curling
with a dark tropical jungle
is steel drum beats, Rastaferian,
drunk on rum punch,
dolphins flip-flopping playfully
as we explore coral reefs,
unviolated by man.
Your arched irridescent belly
is antiquated cave drawings,
heiroglyphics, prehistoric
creatures with wild eyes
and dangerously sharp tusks,
scenes of the hunt with
victorious men clad in
nothing but clay war paints.
As you slip out of sexy jeans,
Grecian women adorn you
with laurel leaves, chanting,
"Hail, Ceasar!"
Goddesses serve you wine,
letting you sip from
rose petals,
and mermaids thrust
their slick fins into
salty air with
dramatic splashes
to gaze upon you.
As our thighs intertwine,
wild horses thunder,
and trumpets blare.
Dogs bark wildly,
horses whinny,
hooves and paws thunder
in anticipation of
blood-spilling struggles
and capturing the
prized game for
their master.
Your warm embrace is Mexico,
habanero peppers and
margaritas in coconut shells,
el poufadero seaspray upon
jagged cliffs, white horses
unreigned upon sandy shores,
glazed pottery in surreal colors,
and turquoise skies filled
with doves of peace.
Our feet,
sometimes clad in mocassins,
perhaps furry mukluks,
or festivious wooden clogs...
step lightly on parallel paths.
We cross briefly, sometimes
becoming one, journeying
side-by-side~
other times, separate continents
with oceans between us,
but fate always brings me
back to your arms.
I want to explore your world,
become an expert in multiculturalism.
I want to speak sixty languages,
and know how to liquidly orate
Love
in each one of them.
I'm packing my bags,
applying for my passport,
stocking up on
journals and film
to capture
once-in-a-lifetime
moments.
Destination : You~topia!
Lori Beal
camels draped in rainbow burlap,
bejewelled bags brimming with
exotic grape leaves, Chai tea,
dried orange rinds, pomegranates,
cinnamon, cloves, cumin.
Your dark eyes flutter hints of
starry ebony musk, lunar cycles,
danger of forty thieves pursuing
young innocent women leaving
them amnesic of feigned purity,
making them howl like
savage beasts in the chilly night.
Our cold noses rub Eskimo-like,
reminiscent of icy tundra,
glaciers, biting wind...
We don't want to leave
our fur-lined bedding where
we spoon like lifelong lovers
in front of a roaring fire.
Your voice resonates
dark Belgian chocolate, and
each word is a coated strawberry,
drizzled with sweetness,
falling delicately on paper-lace
snowflakes...
They trail you like baby breath
blooms tossed at your feet
by giggling little girls
adorned in satin dresses,
ribbons woven thru silk hair.
Your kiss leads me on a treasure hunt.
I uncover ancient mysteries hidden in
the Pyramids of Egypt.
I'm aware of the curses that enshroud
each tomb of gold.
I am suddenly Cleopatra,
snakes winding our arms and legs,
binding us together as I become
blissfully paralyzed,
helpless against
your charms.
Your exposed chest, curling
with a dark tropical jungle
is steel drum beats, Rastaferian,
drunk on rum punch,
dolphins flip-flopping playfully
as we explore coral reefs,
unviolated by man.
Your arched irridescent belly
is antiquated cave drawings,
heiroglyphics, prehistoric
creatures with wild eyes
and dangerously sharp tusks,
scenes of the hunt with
victorious men clad in
nothing but clay war paints.
As you slip out of sexy jeans,
Grecian women adorn you
with laurel leaves, chanting,
"Hail, Ceasar!"
Goddesses serve you wine,
letting you sip from
rose petals,
and mermaids thrust
their slick fins into
salty air with
dramatic splashes
to gaze upon you.
As our thighs intertwine,
wild horses thunder,
and trumpets blare.
Dogs bark wildly,
horses whinny,
hooves and paws thunder
in anticipation of
blood-spilling struggles
and capturing the
prized game for
their master.
Your warm embrace is Mexico,
habanero peppers and
margaritas in coconut shells,
el poufadero seaspray upon
jagged cliffs, white horses
unreigned upon sandy shores,
glazed pottery in surreal colors,
and turquoise skies filled
with doves of peace.
Our feet,
sometimes clad in mocassins,
perhaps furry mukluks,
or festivious wooden clogs...
step lightly on parallel paths.
We cross briefly, sometimes
becoming one, journeying
side-by-side~
other times, separate continents
with oceans between us,
but fate always brings me
back to your arms.
I want to explore your world,
become an expert in multiculturalism.
I want to speak sixty languages,
and know how to liquidly orate
Love
in each one of them.
I'm packing my bags,
applying for my passport,
stocking up on
journals and film
to capture
once-in-a-lifetime
moments.
Destination : You~topia!
Lori Beal
Comment On This Poem ---
Vagabond
Vagabond
