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What are you waiting for?
I do not wish thine eye to drinketh of my beauty, for how now, when thy cup runneth dry?
When Summers graces have stilled by winters cold dark breath, would'st thou still have the sparkle of Spring in thine eye?
As the soft plump curves wrinkle past their ripeness, and the apples of my cheeks turn to ashen gray,
As the sweetness of my voice bitters as time's spent, and my golden silky tresses are but thinning straws of hay,
Would'st thou whisper sweet nothings to the hobbled silver lady?
Would thy fingertips dance upon my wrinkled folded skin?
Would thou speaketh love poems like a gentle bedtime story?
As I'm withered and tired, would thou gently tuck me in?
When maidens come hither with their bountiful blessing to tempt you and tease you when no one's around,
Would your silver haired matron be the shackle that holds you or would memory serve I'm the jewel in your crown?
Like wine, one's beauty serves to strip away thy senses. A glance, like a sip leaves thee quickly craving more.
Each eyeful like a mouthful, the poison spreads quite quickly leaving light headed fools; boorish hounds at my door.
Close thine eyes to my beauty, be but blind to my charm,
Forget Aphrodite's bounty, womanly curves may lead to harm.
Close the door of thine eyes, let thou lashes lock it tight,
Open thy heart to feel and know me, let love be thou shining light.
For thine heart's a faithful traveler, Loves true map will never stray,
For no eyes can put asunder, when two hearts hath joined today.
By: Foxy Wife 9/4/10
