Saturday, May 26, 2012

Intellectual Musings

Like a flower, musk of rose, did your scent
Appeal to mine intellect. Though the heart
Felt it not. I do suspect you hold some bent
Purpose in mind while you dance at night, part
Daylight rays with but a touch of lipstick.
Yet while the mind clings to euphoria
The strings, the sinews of the harp, the trick
Lock upon my bolted heart wherein the
Greatest treasure I do poses is
Contained, are soaking in so much wash bizz:
They cannot be roused so as to muse on
That beauteous scent that is scantly clad.
For the heart knows what it gazes upon;
As the sun lessens what the darkness had.

                   Intellectual Musings (c) Luke Bennette, May 2012

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