Fruit
A sweet presence
In georgia font is what she called home
Mesmerized by cyanide pits,
An addicting metronome
She kept her wild strawberry roots
And swallowed her apple seed
Used the meringue to powder the floor
While she cleaned the walls
So her feet wouldn't get sore
Amidst the cucumber pickin'
And cream soda spittin'
Rollin' fine linen
Like tumble weed
He watered her wild strawberry roots
And swallowed her apple seed
Behold
Swift harmonies of seven violins
Flow like waves over a bed of sand
Gently caressing bath robes on the perfect body
In the hands of thee observer
Like eyes holding perfection
A touch of grey a pond of blue
Glides like kites shadowing sunset dew
Your eyes critique my every move
The king of my castle
Demanding, yet flawless
Like southern gold on the queen's mantle
Words sing verses atop acoustic chords
Each syllable mimics a note
Highs & lows like each day as it goes
Paralyzed like million dollar
Thoughts in a coma
Hanging from festoons
Scented with
Your aroma
By Anthony Desmond - Read more of Anthony’s work at GlassStaircase.blogspot.com - Follow him on Twitter—@iamEPanthony