Lady In Green
The moon dawns upon perfection
by Jack Turner
A dream, nestled in my bedsheets,
Hair as rich as brandy
that know no pleasure but my own.
Prince Charming pouring absinthe
and kisses down her throat
'I will be gone by morning' - no truer words were told
and I take mine not with a pinch of salt,
and spice and all things nice,
beneath a tapestry of shining eyes
that wait to shed a tear.
And 'tickle me pink, my darling dear,
do tell me what you're doing here
Your lips release the fear in me
Your hands, all tension is relieved
Oh, have a drink, and follow me,
And let my passion ravish thee.'
Her flesh was fire against my flesh,
Her touch was searing to the bone
Her eyes were green as jealousy
and day by day I'd be alone.
'Oh hold me close, my darling
Say you'll never leave
Or I will cease to quiver
I will cease to breathe.'
Her hair, spun gold, spilled out across the bed
with laughter and a twinkling eye,
a brilliant emerald jewel;
I desire nothing
the supple flesh, the silken touch, the gardener of Eden
and I desire nothing but
Eternity and you
But the midnight horticulturalist
sows seeds and seals them with a kiss
and leaves an Autumn garden
pining for Spring's bliss.
The green-eyed monster settles in the glass
And quenches thirst of empty lips
And every dusk she dances by the fire,
My heart burns out it's flames
'Pour your kisses, your excuses,
Pour your love and all your f.king absinthe down the drain! ! '
But she will not, and I will not,
and every night love stumbles in again
to wear my heart down with a liquorice kiss
and 'Green is the colour of Satan, my love, and he of pleasure knows! '
And Satan, every morning, wakes, and shakes, and groans
And this is Satan, then, a woman -
Cold, and empty as the bottle;
'It is good to be alone.'