My Indian Majesty

He met her on a summer day, when he himself felt particularly vain
his eyes were shiny, fierce and blue
her hair was luscious, long and flew
in the waves of the wind, he jumped up when it touched his skin

He never loved her for her mind
her beauty only reached his eyes
she saw an anxiousness in him, but when she spoke he seemed to cringe

His passion broke out of it’s cage, so enchanted by her shape
he reached for her and loved her then, but it was slight and had to end

So now he sits and dines alone, longing for a lost ardor
while his spouse sits next to him, he cannot see past her wonderfully shaped chin

He got older, sad and blue,
his true love was unprepossessing, so he never knew


About Vicky Blanco

This is not a blog
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