Her

 

Her eyes burn with the light of July,

And hair of August fields,

Her lips are the sacred pink of Spring

And her body the rich strength of Summer.

 

Her voice is both the singing of the lark

And the soft snarl of a vixen

Her hate is ice, a cold fury

And freezes your very soul

Her love is the warm rain and lightning

And makes you feel alive

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s