C. Albert Andrews Poems

She is hot, she is flashy
She is downright saucy
A real beauty.
Some call her cutie
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I want to touch your saintly hair
And smell your breath like morning air.
Rich men seek to touch your cheeks
But that is way beyond their reach.
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My breath on your face
Yours on mine
Fresh as wind
Soft and cool
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Early that morning
From our back door, I saw you walking
Dew was still on the grass
Traces of your foot prints
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Return to me let me smell your sweet perfume
Not lavender, though that was good
The roses were just as sweet.
What I missed even more was your splash of love.
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The passion of these words tell a story
A story deeper than you want to reach
Further than you want to see,
Stronger than you want to believe
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I saw you from a distance running
Like angel's wings, your arms outstretched
Leaping effortlessly, fueled by the wind.
Yet the leaves on the trees stood still.
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Isn't it funny, how you judge me?
You look at my hair and say I'm crazy
It is woolly and you call it kinky
Who cares what you think?
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Dust on tranquil streets
Seldom disturbed by gusty wind.
Trees no more barren by residue of war
Filled with fruits and fresh leaves.
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Youthful looks someday change
Hair turn grey as we aged,
Wrinkled skin through the years
Sight fades at different range.
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