GARBO:

Alabaster skin & your eyes smoky & curling,

Your looks to men, in silence, darting, hurling,

Come-hither message translated in their minds,

Ectoplasm ribbons that enticingly ties & binds.

Your kissable lips, inviting all to taste & take a sip,

Only to be sorely spurned when they begin to dip,

Corporal Goddess, you whom upon rests all eyes,

Men desire & femme wants to be before she dies.

Of classic silver screen, long gone before our time,

Superlative elegance of feminal, superior & divine,

Hair of gold, spun by God´s hand with his fair thread,

 Magical alchemy, bestowed upon your noble head.

Lady of those colder climes, of all our wildest dreams,

Bequeaths us tears on screen, in many copious streams,

Set by us on pedestal, not made of blood, flesh & bone,

When we get too close, you say, “I just want to be alone”.

VINTAGE:

It was in the ice-cream parlour on the edge of town,

Where we once jived all night & we all hung around,

In pink bobby-socks, sloppy-Joes & stovepipes tight,

Ponytail, hair-sprayed & swinging in striped neon light,

Girls in petticoats stiff & guys with cool greased quiffs,

With sassy swishes, skirts flying high in our dancing lifts,

Hot dogs, sarsaparilla & milkshakes in hot candy colours,

All paid back then in hard earned cents & not in dollars,

Those Saturday nights in the drive-in, dusty back seats,

Popcorn, stolen kisses & cuddling, our only weekly treats,

Elvis Presley, Bobby Darren, Cliff & that sweet Peggy Sue,

Gyrating hips, hot lips & those suede shoes, so fast & blue,

Rocking & rolling to the flashing jukebox in the café-diner,

No days since then, nor yet to come, could be any so finer.

GOODBYE KISSES:

Tentatively given by unused & soft virginal lips,

Akin bee-tingled sting, as she dewy nectar sips,

Upon dawn´s rose-petaled cheek duly caressed,

From petunia pink to red-vermillion chili dressed.

Groped kisses of passionate heat & sated fire,

Humid, urgent, gift-wrapped within hot desire,

Such sweet delirium of heaven & hell entwined,

Fleshy missives leading to body & soul combined.

Kisses given, taken, felt, greedily & selfishly kept,

Exchanged in joy, love & with parting sadly wept,

Blown from distant hands, on winds drifting away,

Bestowed on babes in tears at the end of sleepy day.

Kisses of crosses on pages, in dust scribed & sketched,

Upon the trunks of old oaks & in ancient stories etched,

In love promised forever, beneath blue moonlit trees,

Kisses not yours to keep, drift away on distant breeze.

RIVER´S AURA:

Sun dappled tickles shivering the green waving reeds,

Releasing diamond dew drops in strings of little beads,

Floating creamy lilies & their green toad-padded beds,

Soft drifting dragonflies in turquoise, gold & ruby reds,

Gossamer wings flitting & skimming, wet & silken spun,

Kingfishers of jewels, slip, dip & whooping just for fun.

Splash, plop, snort & the droning of busy buzzing bees,

All God´s little creatures & leaves that float from trees,

As day fades & night invades, the river bank is starry lit,

Eyes peep gold & red, others dip & fireflies swoop & flit,

And in the early dawn of mists in greys, greens & blues,

I can sense the river´s auras in her breath of many hues.

MISFIT:

Told by mama to go & play with the kids next door,

But she preferred chasing butterflies so much more,

Papa always worried because she talked to herself,

But she talked to old ghosts, fairies & the giggling elf.

She never liked fireworks, fun-fairs & party balloons,

Preferring cool green forests on summer afternoons,

No loud music & colours, nor crowds for this little girl,

Preferring soft grey mists & bird-song in which to twirl.

Growing up, men tried to bend her to their noisy ways,

But in cold lilac dawns, she preferred to kneel & pray,

Fast jiving feet & discos she forfeited for bended knees,

Drunk-sodden-leers she exchanged for whispering trees.

In time, marriage came to pass with a gentle good man,

Children arrived; she gave all, as only good mothers can,

Her life sped by & she did all that she was told & should,

But still she dreamed of silences of the deep green woods.

She´s the misfit in the lives of those who towed the line,

An island, floating in the dawn of her own beautiful time,

Her best friends, the moon & understanding silent morn,

Between two worlds born, ever since divided & sorely torn.