Lilies in Locks

Lilies in Locks

Set are flowers in her hair,

And she smells of sweet breeze.

Disheveled and unkempt she is.

Yet, my interest is peaked.

She owns the grassy meadow,

As long as her tender remains at seat.

Her skin, it glows with radiance,

As if autumn’s bursting leaves.

Open wide are eyes so blue,

Bluer than the winged’s skies.

Like vines her earthen hair falls,

Tangled, coarse, and dry.

The body of this one,

Tiny as a rodent’s yet supple at the breast.

Down her hips are curves of hills,

At the foot lay the sweetest flower soaking wet.

Sex be not the sole motive of my affection,

For all cannot be the one to receive.

Yet, I still desire her way of perception.

So forgive me lady of nature of my thoughts obscene.

Be it her freedom,

Or perhaps her lack of care.

She remains a thought of intrigue,

The girl with flowers in her hair.