Poetry: HER

U ask me

of her?

I would

without hesitation

folllow

Her

night and day

on paths leading

anywhere and 

nowhere

 I would engage her

in spirited debate

and deep philosophical

discourse

not so much for her views

but for the

cornsilk tones -

with slightest rasp -

of her voice

and the otherwordly

Sparkle - with the slightest

mischief - 

in her eyes

I wold build

castles

and

monuments

to the 

honeyed

supple bounty

of her thighs

and gladly

make myself

a castaway

in that sweet valley

in between

Drunk

like a wanton

King

on the

mead and

royal jelly therein

Most of all

I'm reconciled

happily in truth

crazy as it seems

to never

having

the manifold joy

of these notions

at hand

For u see

someone else

is holding

Her