Comments about Kev Smitty
Joy Is Her Herald
Joy is her herald.
As she passes the threshold,
the trumpets blare.
A blast of warmth banishes the cold,
and her smile lays my soul bare.
As my eyes fall upon her,
a parabola spreads across my face
The ecstasy grows exponentially,
starting slow, but swiftly shooting into space.
There, surrounded by countless other stars,
only one shines brightest of all.
Passion burns a brighter red than that of Mars,
a fire fed by the subliminal,
none other than the one who stands quiet,
who does not think she is worthy of being watched
and yet, I must ...