Inspired by a vintage ****** postcard from the 1920s - 30s:

The Muse sits resplendent
caressed in sepia tones and pastel cream
gilded with the glaze of a bygone era
her silk Charleston negligee
worn proud like a vintage ornament
perched on an aesthetically pleasing
shapely pert insolent *****
blossomed with tiny beads of sweat
the heat of such anticipation
entices the pearls of the ******
to pamper and pleasure their perversions

etched as if in a radiance of candlelight
the flickering limbs pulse their bloom
nimble fingers of dancing shadows
cupping the feline curves of a chaise longue
the purposefully out of place set piece
the fantasy of a gentleman's reading room
caked in casked sherry
and Nat Sherman cigar infused aromas

her elegant pose sumptuous reclining
elbow length satin gloves
sensually wrapped in wanton desire
******* clasp a Sorbranie Black Russian
smoked like a sultry gypsy
with a fervent demeanour
from a silver opera cigarette holder
beckoning with the cats eyes of mischief
over Pinced nez eyeglasses
with a fascination imbibed
in the praxis of passion

the peach skin of refulgent youth
directs the viewer downwards, slowly
survey each contour of olive skin
and stroke every hidden cleft of fabric
to glimpse the nubile thighs of grace
leading the eye to the arch of an ankle
slipped like a fitted glove
nestled in the cleavage of her calf
and the chastity of future wonderment

the forgotten photograph
captures a period in time
the memories of the muse
now in motionless existence
a demure allure forever frozen
once lost, but now
never forgotten

Time sits slouched,
Whisky supped from a shoe.
Space takes his place,
Beard smothered in brew.
Hope sprawls eternal,
Smiles, on the face of the few.
The night is masked,
Casked honey dew.

Amber obscures,
Procures,
Distorts the view.
Glazed by a hazy
Feint green plume.
Time takes a sip from
Weathered worn out shoe.
As space wipes his face
Hope yawns on que.
The night is released,
At least for now, until
The fall of the morning dew.

.
My treasure awaits,
Has pearls to uncover,
Locked in lips of flesh,
Rose petals, blushing full
Cheek, eyes of lacing nebula
Exploding in milk of heavens,
This treasure I must hoard,
Climb on to the proud chest
And unlock, spun gold threads,
Sparkles in tresses of crown,
Sovereign pink hands, tendered,
Are freckled in beads of amber,
A brooch of navel, whirlpools,
Commands my ***** greed
Toward singular jewel of her
Thighs, lanyard of legging,
Of toes, whispering ripples
Till the under tides ripped
Agast in so much bounty,
Casked in reams of satin
And flows of wet breaths
Was nary sunk, drunken,
Moony in starry love ring,
Now, by map of dream
I bury my treasure.

.
My treasure awaits,
Has pearls to uncover,
Locked in lips of flesh,
Rose petals, blushing full
Cheek, eyes of lacing nebula
Exploding in milk of heavens,
This treasure I must hoard,
Climb on to the proud chest
And unlock, spun gold threads,
Sparkles in tresses of crown,
Sovereign pink hands, tendered,
Are freckled in beads of amber,
A brooch of navel, whirlpools,
Commands my ***** greed
Toward singular jewel of her
Thighs, lanyard of legging,
Of toes, whispering ripples
Till the under tides ripped
Agast in so much bounty,
Casked in reams of satin
And flows of wet breaths
Was nary sunk, drunken,
Moony in starry love ring,
Now, by map of dream
I bury my treasure.
.

My love was casked and aged in heart
It was soft and hard and sometimes nought
It drew breath away from sunset eyes
It left me in the gladness of goodbyes
I can only accept the memories bliss
Of sweet and sour honnied kiss
And all the last second of your sigh
Written across the tears of eye
And I become a vapourous ghost
Of time lost to pillar post
Tis now time to uncork the cask
And take off my weary mask
And savour love
I make a toast to love's hollow boast

How can those moments
timeless in time
sweep through your soul
and bring a smile
to your lips after
the years have been overlaid in pages past

The aches casked in heart
have aged into the deliicate vintages
of love , companionship ,
and fellowship
whose sweet taste on the
lachrymose memories brings a soothing loss
and peace of mind

Every smile remembered
Every soul searching embrace
Those unforgetable kisses
The last goodbyes
The funerals attended

As I sit in the silence
bleeding invisibly
swallowed in sorrow
wondering why was I
cursed to live beyond so many so much better than
I

To all those Fridays since my birth
the then and the now
let me gather no more
than a bouquet to fit in my hand upon the chest of my last despair

Warm and full
My bubbly, baptismal vessel
Carries casked vanilla notes in its steam
A pillow of air
Keeps me from drowning
My ******* float and lift away
Brackish water covering near the totality of my body
Changes within me and its salinity
As each teardrop rolls into the mixture,
I struggle less to stay afloat