Monday, March 26, 2012

Restraint by Bob Atkinson

(c)2012 Bob Atkinson
oh my, the years go by
her beauty remains complete
soft and supple, bundled up
with silk and fine black lace

fire in that soul of hers
showed temper always near
drawn as if a bow string set
with arrow aimed to pierce

the heart of any mortal man
could not resist her charms
with little provocation one would
give life for one night's love

in her bed of fine silk cloth
her hand upon one's face
smile upon those supple lips
glow in her soft sweet glance

no, she would not look into
the artist's loving eyes
knew the power of attraction
caused her morality's demise

could not, would not, challenge him
she could not be his prize
could not, would not, let him see
tender love in her sweet brown eyes

Edouard, too, fell in love
so many, many years later
drew upon her likeness
painted as her portrait's creator

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