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SUNDAY SERVICE
by Paul Curtis Her dark eyes, sultry and steamy Flashed a sideward's glance From beneath the black lace of her Mantilla He gave her a browse A more appraising look altogether Her eyes flashed up again A lingering languid glance Which spoke of her muliebrity Not the putative girl They were now the cynosure Of each others eyes No words were spoken Everything was intuit With amative study And libidinous perusal She his object of pulchritude He her beloved inamorato Then they had to separate And the spell was broken Until next Sundays reunion I am a fifty something family man with a passion for writing and I draw inspiration from those around me. paul.curtis1956 @ btinternet.com http://www.dreamagic.com/poetry/poetry.html http://www.peculiar-poetry.com/ Article Source: http://www.faithwriters.com |