SILK OF A DIFFERENT ILK
A woman leaves me much in awe,
Like nature's spring and winters thaw.
She's persistent like the driven snow,
Yet, still, can backtrack with the flow.
When she smiles, she lights the world,
And leaves it with it's flags unfurled.
She is really of a different ilk,
She's soft and smooth like untouched silk.
Her eyes are bright and always trusting,
She does not see when we are lusting.
She does not think about us much,
Until we get too close, and touch.
It's then her body warms like fire,
Inside a seething, deep desire.
With each touch this fire grows,
Until her body overflows.
It's not too hard for me to see,
That she's much more than ecstasy.
She is beauty to the Nth degree,
My every waking fantasy.
