Let's dance to the clouds, beholder of ancient beauty
For eclipse paint hidden emotion in poet's duty
Hold me like that, that twinkling stars may fickle with colour
I am close to you, your hair brushing me, in this poet's palour
Your dress like paints of Xenson, you denote my poetry
Your pricking chest like soft cushion, you ignite my chemistry
Your mouth close, cherry like, your curves find such geometry
And if the clouds hold us still, your hand in mine,
alas finding that joinery
Poets find dreams, sprayed near iguana
But if it be not Susannah, Poetrinah, but Dianah
What can be spelt on rhyme, but a man's inner
That which makes a man shiver, feeling like a sinner
I adore this lady, simple, perhaps to dance to the cloud
My heart loves her, plain, perhaps I will never say that aloud
©ssekajja K Ronald 2013
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem