Beautiful Distraction

As dreamy dusk kisses the dusty dawn
At the stroke of midnight
When dreams are born
I think of her
If wishes were horses
They say beggars would ride
I'd wish upon a wishing star
That this queen would be my bride

Her luscious hair crowns her head
Black as the bark of the ebony tree
She has that gentle smile
That arches from cheek to cheek
Like the bow of the crescent moon

When night falls
And the stars line up in procession
As the owl sings her doleful tune
Her silhouette isn't frail
She stands strong
Hewn from beautiful cedars

Her eyes beckon to me
"Come, young poet, come"
Yet...
She stares aloof
Oblivious of the effects of her charms
On this poor wandering soul
She's a siren
Her voice envelopes me
Like a sailor I am drawn
To the shores of her affection
Words fail me
Would I drink from her lips
The sweet nectar of love refined
Or taste the delicious pinot noir
That drips with every kiss

Who is she?
Hidden beneath the shroud
Of words and rhyme
My mysterious woman
A voluptuous vixen?
A sassy saint?
Or the girl that haunts the dreams
Of every man
The ever elusive femme fatale
I call her
My beautiful distraction...


By Damilare Maverick ( Nigeria )

picture credits: fineartamerica.com