The Sunset

O mystic beauty, beholder's eye,
Symbolic perfection.
Lips shaped like clouds,
Round, soft, and tinted red;
Body curves like waves,
Smooth, warm, and slowly moving.
Hair like bright sunlight
Falling over the shoulders,
Sparkling on the waves.
I hear a voice in the summer breeze;
It calls me forth.
As the sun sets, the waves slowly subside,
The clouds meet, the breeze evens out.

Panther - [email protected]
Last Update: August 17, 1998