Momentary Lapse of Season

 

 

 

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Chris Isaak “Baby Did A Bad Bad Thing”

 

 

 

 

 

Beneath the moonlit sky
In land afar from space and time
Our eyes meet only briefly
While our smiles tilt most discreetly
Sipping my Boulevardier
I’m ever so tempted to pull you in near
Plant a soft kiss on your cherry red lips
And return with a sweet souvenir

 

Struggling just to contain myself here
For my gasoline heart is ablaze
Naturally keen to stake claim on terrain
That is famed for its grandeur and range
Hazy shades of you are all I see
All I see is lady of self-evident demure
How I yearn to taste the grapes no wrath could ever sour
Learn the secret blush of your intoxicating flower
Feel the surge of nectar as your petals then unfurl
Bid this searching flame of mine devour

 

Skies shift gently overhead
To offer blessing to undressing the restraint in scant remains
To the moon a silhouette of two expressing one reflection
Every sinew threshing from the flesh to mesh in braid
Enslaved by prepossessing smile that hangs like fine art from a face no frame could ever hope in vain arrest
Abreast of every part of me that lends curate to masterpiece
Howbeit, should I tend to every swirling flame that circulates my arteries
Then I will never savour grasp of master key

 

Beneath the moonlit sky
In land afar from space and time
Our lips meet only briefly
While our smiles tilt indiscreetly
Every last nerve trembling to taste your body’s tears in kind
Tear asunder bedroom thighs and plunder the celestial prize
I’m ever so tempted to pull you in near
Return with a sweet souvenir
Beneath the moonlit sky
In land afar from space and time
I close my eyes in height of all four seasons
Simply
Sigh

 

 

 

 

 

Richard Charles Stevens

 

Keeper of The Crimson Quill

 

 

 

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