I was sure I had bottled up
The genie,
and closed the lid shut tight,
Wary of being granted my wishes,
but always with a twist,
I promised myself I shall not ask.
Oh, how foolish was I,
she escapes every night,
the astral apparition,
comes dancing riding the clouds,
moonlight streaming from her hair,
dew drops dangling from her eye lashes,
lips soft like rose petals,
fingers like a painter’s soft brush,
she caresses.
Her breath like a soft breeze,
scented celestial, sensuous,
Softly I moan and try to embrace her,
to hold her tight to my chest,
my body burning with desire.
Gently she wiggles out and coos in my ears,
how dare you bottle up your heart,
and keep me away,
As I lament
another wasted night.
Fleeting Muse 