Why Won't Sense Come Breaking Through?

I

I felt a pounding o'er my brain
Twas lingering thoughts of you.
That pushing, pulling, oh, that strain
Might not sense be breaking through?

I step lightly or mighten I see
Those visions of your sepia smile
So scrumptiously winking at me.
Can't I go for just a while?

That tingling softness, tis her touch.
That breezy purring whispering voice
Needs to becken me, not much.
Whispy magnets give me no choice.

Chocolate candy-like, bitter-n-sweet
Rippling each time she makes a move.
Sparks dash from head to feet
Each time I view her hairy groove.

Oh, I'm but butter in the sun
And she's glitter as morning dew.
Each time I squeeze each honey bun
The real world slips from view.

Mustn't I be so hasty now
To relive each lustful taste.
For more and more I need to vow
Never to recall that glowing face.

II


There was a dream I once had
Twas strange I must confess
Vivid, I remember from when a lad
True, it became, oh, what a mess.

I knew a lady of the street
Who craved love from all she met.
Both genders gave her but a treat
She reached for all there was to get.

How true she became in my life
Showed me only the sparkling gem.
Twas not long after she was my wife
I was hanging by threads from a limb.

We did try to build us a home
And make happiness our own goal.
She could not beat that need to roam
And needed to live a double role.

Often times there seemed at hand
No better life for us could be;
For she was mine and I her man
But the nightmare came back to me.

On some occasssions we did feel
There were blessings for us in store.
But, this fantasy just was too real
One day she vanished, to be seen no more.

III

For weeks I prayed for her return
I craved her glowing face;
Memories flamed, the fire did burn
Her where a bouts I had no trace.

My grief had waned a little bit
I took the time think.
As I viewed the chair where she had sit
I refused to allow me to sink.

We used to have so much fun
When we played our loving game.
My wife was she, also my other hun (I was her man, she my hun)
But gone she is-- tis not the same!

IV

Now I feel somewhat free
Of those vulgar spiteful ways.
I need to forget the memory
And the horror of those days.

I felt the nightmare re-appear
When I dreamed she might be there
I awoke to reality and cheered
And sweet scents did fill the air.

I must step lightly and be strong
To not relive those memories again.
I will pay the price and live alone
So my sunshine won’t turn to rain.

But, there is a pounding o'er my brain
Might they be lingering thoughts of you?
That pushing, pulling, awful strain---
WHY WONT SENSE COME BREAKING THROUGH?

Entered 10/18/02
written 7/18/79 Options