Brooding eyes
Bid you come
Play your muse
Ignore banausic deeds,
Have contempt for
Those things materialistic
Drawn from the sweat
Of your hard labor.
Instead listen
To a divine tune
Played by the sultry air
As those eyes
Entertain your needs
So slowly and succulently
On an artistic coverlet
Woven of the finest threads
Of love, lust and longing
In a caravan
Whose destination
Is an enchanted land
Few ever get a glimpse of.
Come with me
To the promised land.

9-23-03
Laura R