A Tale of Two Beauties


There appears a transfiguration of love
Forfeited for a lack of general truth
About what the future holds in its glove
Subtly shaping the days of fading youth
As the breeze wells the sails of the bounty
The expedition still looks for beauty

The purity of sensation

Christmas wears a blue shirt when he works
He changes to white for the concubine
Whom he embraces as his desire uncorks
Strange energies as the bodies entwine
The wild whirling sensations of touch
The design of mammaries which they clutch

To Christmas beauty's essence is pleasure
The nakedness of the organic fruit
The tainted grit on the craggy ginger
The nimble finger around the champagne flute
Is how he remembers the wedding day
Saying he'll never want to pine the nights away

The hidden treasure

Joyce Flower will like to tint her hair orange red
To suit her twisting pursing smiling lips
She keeps some secret things under her bed
This you always tell by the way she sips
The glass of the bubbly and how she snorts
When the special call puts her out of sorts

To Joyce beauty's real essence is that vision
Of a tunic worn tight with gold medals
Won in battles with the foreign legion
He rides a bicycle with four pedals
As a proof of loving with equality
Washed ashore kissing from here to eternity
 

Bevagna, 18 9 2007