Naughty Nice

*Her skin glows like the Grapes,
My yearning heart rises to your piano voice
and leaps like a dog at the whisper of your name,
Annie, my naughty Nice.

The evening ascends in on a great sparrow wing.
I am calmed by her tight fitted Blue Jeans
that  image I will carry into the twilight of the Rommel beams,
which hold next to my legs.

I am filled with hope that I may dry her tears of fear
As my arms falls from her blouse,
it reminds me of our secret house.

In the hushed, I listen for the last chain of the spring.
My heated face leaps to her summer dress.
I wait in the crystal moonlight in our secret place,
so that we may jump as one, face to face,
in search of the glorious yellow and spiritual glass of love