The Women Expatriates

 

The Women Expatriates ~

It was with a lust,

That he sought her,

Dazzling snow-woman who gave

To him herself a swift darling,

Which cast deeply entrenched need,

Inner glow he had set aflame,

Swept the harshness from his eyes,

Removing the façade adorning-

And promptly glorified his dark thoughts,

Sparking the heart and crafting,

Of his black heart a fire-tinged gem . . .

 

One that is much nicer than,

The frigid expatriate-

When she removes her cool, aloof Autumn, 

and becomes a Winter jewel-brightened, 

Causing him to glance at her-

The swift, graceful soul which

He could but dance with-

Whose soft glances tore him away,

From all of his worries,

His heart must sing loudly as she,

Hones a navigational glow,

The arch of Winter’s hems gliding as she,

Fully turns her dress to its good side,

Her eyes no longer frigid.

 

Haply though, in the cold wind,

He loses all his directional senses as,

She removes from him the jaded ties-

The illusions of the terrible Autumn,

Glacial drifts within that month,

Takes them so neatly away,

With a beautiful dress of whiteness luring,

Grasping on his sense of chivalry ~

 

His eyes will see,

Senses will perceive also-

Touching upon the art of sheer grace,

That now rests in the small foothills of his soul,

Whispering nothings in his ear through,

Mother Nature when she provides,

A renewed, refreshed understanding . . .

And guiding him back to his home,

Of womanly characteristics and love,

When spirit of mother and young woman,

Gently touch his darkened soul,

Removing their former crassness,

Soothing it with love and nourishment ~