FOREIGN AFFAIR
by Christoffer Wenlock
Her hair is like an undestined schooner
Catching the roaring wind of the North;
Her spine beguiles the man who stares
And dreams of hills so graceful and proud;
Her bellow afloat the breadth of space
Gives way only to a billow of grace.
Her smile, yet unseen,
Has surely written songs for the voice of an unfoiled lust.
Her march of diligence probes into hearts
Whose selves are now overcome...;
Her departure...untimely! as she sails on,
Having never caught my eye:
We remain each other's forever mystery.