All it is I’d give for her Summer to be mine

Black and white stripes rule the torso of her design,
As skin tight denim rides the contours of her thighs,
All it is I’d give for her summer to be mine
For her winter to be concealed within the sky,

Awaiting the child high from herbs to get up off the curb melting, Awaiting emotion to be felt in the movement.
Awaiting descent into Madness’ palms, knowing she’ll keep
Her calm in the heat of passion, riding as though it were the fashion to
Dash the dreams of lovers young as they lie upon the pavement.

poem by David Lacey
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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