Adieu, mon’amie,
Thus far, you have entranced me; vous femme divine.
I find myself.. Unable to focus, to say the least.
Profits slip, yet alas my merchant life seems pale in comparison to the way you shine; to be graced by your presence, mes dieux‐ gods forgive me, for I find myself lost beneath a heavy blanket of lust.
I have traveled the world and back again, yet none may compare to you. From the geishas of Japan in the east, the exotic
Bollywood women of the south, they are but an impartial imitation of the perfection you wear so well.
Rags could not tatter, dirt not smudge, looks never mattered when it came to you. The way you smile as you look upon the ports, as if the sea whispers words of praise and flattery, relishing in your enraptured gaze.
YOU ARE READING
Tales Of A Poet
PoetryA collection of poems add short stories, some with a bit of a dark tone, some lighthearted.
