Save My Soul

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I’m not asking you to save my soul
But if you’re going that way…
Go ahead and cop a feel

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The Truth About Women’s Feet

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Love wrapped around my mind like a shroud

Full of colors, spectrums & radiant splashes

Not a day without engulfing sunshine

Blinded by pantyhose & false eyelashes

I believed in the fairytale courtships

Sipping champagne from glass slippers

Lovely damsels in need of gentlemen

Revealed to be crude strumpet strippers

My soul could not take this detail

Where was my love with elegant class

Distraught in this new reality

Stuck on feet made for crystal glass

How could my dreams unravel so

This giving me pause to think

Now I understand the truth

That women’s feet actually stink

Hanging With Beach Bums & Bashful Babes

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Hanging with beach bums & bashful babes

Swimming in the surf on late Spring days

Colorful flavors poured gently over ice

Skin glowing after hours in the pleasant rays

I thought I saw a Sea Hag along the sand

Though she revealed herself to be a Siren

Coaxing & teasing me with her demure allure

Whispering that I might be a modern Lord Byron

Uncomfortable with compliments of any sort

I quietly pull out my pen to jot down an ode

Her eyes grow wide, then a smirk & a wink

Simultaneously my mind, heart & loins explode