Fallen angel

 

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Look look how he stretches out his bronze arms.

One can hardly blame him.

How beautiful she is, lolling back on her couch,

A divan divinity

How hot it is.!  No shame for her either

for being a little careless in the matter of shirt buttons.

Oh, how lovely to feel the evening breeze

just there, and there. . . on the roof terrace I mean.

Poor angel has felt a few frisky breezes of late.

That hole in his mid-section is a fine sculptural device

and people do stop to scratch their heads and wonder at it,

but it does rather let in the chilly gusts

and lends a whole new dimension to suffering from wind.

Ah, but soon the harem beauty in bright red,

the color of fire, of lust, of radishes,

soon she will open her arms to him.  Her companion eggs him on

with her steady gaze.

Go for it , angel.  Enter her sunlit world, enfold her in your icy arms.

Dont’ wait another moment.  After all she has given you the green light.

 

 

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