The Monroe Moon
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January 1, 2024
~ Poem Of The Week ~
January 7, 2024
~ Second Place ~
Premiere Contest: A 2024
Sponsor: Brian Strand
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In glamor-light of sunset
a new crowd of cumulus clouds arrive
and revive a sepia sky-scene—
unworldly woolgatherers gather
spinning fantasy fluff into quixotic yarns
of debutantes dancing with honeymoon hunger;
their dewy eyes blurred by the sawdust of stardust
pseudo-princess-pleasure-seekers
—drama daring
pinot-noir peignoir baring—
full of themselves and solar ignition
preen like quasi queens
…as they gaze
into a saffron glazed
looking-glass lake…
full-bodied peony-plush
reflections blushed
hot-stuff cream-puffs
jostling for prime position
as an aqueous mirror acquiesces
and titillating fantasies tingle stiffened spines
of sideline reeds…
they; the toast of twilight-nightlife
a pageant of ripened peach pin-ups
oh, poor scarlet starlets
they know not the fleeting nature of their beauty
what about the golden hour
excites them so?
fiery shades ride high persuading
yes— invading
pale day-maiden thighs
apple bottoms clasped
flaunted bosoms grasped—
Venus-like vesper vixens
marshmallowy
binge on technicolor like bonfire bonbons
and press together in suspended solidarity;
sorority girls—kittenish
revel in new found sex-appeal
lipstick pinks and Ferrari reds
possess racy candied cumulus curves
like zealous jealous neon lovers—
frothy gypsies glowing in the gloaming
g l i d e . . .
gold-god seeded and heated
a romance with the sun; a hot affair!
yet— flirtations with flimsy sylphs
tempts not a noon time flare
from sundown stud’s embers;
rude-rock-star
(his palate jaded by tipsy celestial bodies)
beds down behind dark downy hills—
the burn of their yearn spurned!
his high voltage rays fade
and sangria party-girls age;
a floating flock of feminine flamingos
no longer in a flamenco mood—
plumpy-plummy cumulus clouds
jelly-jam-juicy in cleavage couture
turn old mare gray
—puffed-up ethereal egos
deflate
…and then...
SHE
R I S E S
from the diurnal dust of the eastern dusk
roused by nighttime reveilles
of nightingales’ negligee nocturnes
a solo solar-system seductress sashays on stage
oh! how she floats
airy as a dandelion’s floury puff—
skin lustrous as porcelain
as if touched upon by fingers of candlelight
she ascends the darkling yet star-sparkling dias
above and beyond
Rubenesque scoops of vague vanilla vapor
—harebrain Janes; p l a i n
in the absence of a setting-star’s chroma spill—
cool aloof
a l o f t
the ageless dreamboat diva lounges
her half-closed eyes—orgasmic;
the Milky Way beneath black-fringed lids…
her blueberry-velvet boudoir bespangled
like a discotheque
the solar wind his love song
his corona her crown
her nightspot their hotspot
the o r i g i n a l platinum blonde
gold-simmered in star-shimmered lamé
the Monroe moon
tangles a tequila tango;
pepper passion and sugar cane dreams—
features of her famed face framed
in a gilded spotlight–
his all-night sheen
caresses
honeydew hips
kisses
pillow pout lips—parted
pleasure principle honey dipped
nightglow-seduction sipped
the sun her prince
—s h e—
his flaxen haired showgirl!
his swoon wooed
by her night shining dance;
veil-frail-cirrus swirl
showy flowy billows whirl
wrap and unwrap
a ‘sugar-cookie-shimmy’ hotshot
in starring role strip tease—
his stargazing chéri
his elegant exhibitionist; a stager a player…
he— a rapt voyeur— rapturous!
for her
he will r i s e
again and again
she— his pearly-petaled moonflower
unfurled in cosmic foreplay
a white-satin-sheets dreamer
a sun-cinema romancer
an immortal go-go dancer
forever pulsing male mortal blood into whiskey
as ingénue-innocence spoons ultraviolet lust!
ah, poor scarlet starlets—ha!
no.. they know not the fleeting nature of their beauty
hot spiced cider;
the taste of laughing the last laugh
celebrates upon her silver tongue
Copyright © Susan Ashley | Year Posted 2024
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