My Love

By: William Scott Ayce

Tresses, long and flowing
in macrame fashion.
Fiery obelisks atop limpid
pools of azure tanzanite.
Lips pursed longingly with
each sultry utterance.
Words, architecturally inadequate
foil loves orchestration.
Clandestine overtures I send
on cherubic wings of flight.
Naivete surrenders to the many faces
borne of love.
Ardent, my minds eye coalesces in
wonderment.
My heart hovers longingly
in your prescence.