No ratings.
A collection of poetry that has recieved four stars or more at writing.com |
She walks with deities in search of rhapsody As her beauty marks grace with humbleness Her aura seems to radiate through smiles of Sheba after Minileck’s conception She reminds me of that beautiful servant girl Black as the night, yet light as if through her skin God’s light She could make any man think twice About… Yet I am no king But still dream of entering your home To run my fingers across the beads that softly kisses your neck To look into your eyes; like those of rapturous doves Manifested to send blessed assurance to sinners like me Oh how Beautiful you are You consistently enter my mind like a slave song I mean uplifting and appealingSpiritually healing Like Lazarus resurrecting Your beauty brings tears to my eyes And my tears are accompanied as Jesus looks on And as I stare into your eyes A quiet storm brews inside my insides Quake my soul until the structure becomes unsteady Allowing room to renovate How I wish to call you Shulamite And be unto you as a cluster of henna in the vineyards of Engedi You are the rose of Sharon You are the lily in the valley of thorns Yet I am no king But if were would fulfill your necessities the fruit of my trees Lay you within the dainties And anointed with healing powers of love Cure your love sickness with my majik I crave to see your smile like joy is a bad habit Then again I must be hooked Because daily doses of you is needed to fill voids And the realms in which contemplation wander Makes me wonder whether your kisses are as of wine Intoxicated yet pragmatically euphoric Breathing the breath of life with love as our hearts contort Beloved, oh sweet Beloved How I wish desire was a fabrication and I could humble myself Yet I am no king Tempted by the anarchy of coveting I quench myself in your beauty as you speak to me of salvation I fancy myself romancing thee And your eyes look upon me As Sara gazed at Abraham when told news of her blessing But I do see evidence of omnipotence as the plot unfurls Because planned was this world before we met And love was what I felt for you before it was set I used to pray for the chariot of fire To take me to that destination unknown But intuition told me my heaven would have eyes that touched my soul and now I know my destination is to you Oh Beloved how Beautiful you are And how I pray for you That you will one day look upon me And see me as your Beloved Riding towards you with the world you have dreamed Yet, alas, I am no king. |