"Maraschino Stems"
She hangs on to every word
Like sounds she never heard.
Her focused stare calms my nerves
And quells the stage fright.
Consecutive Friday nights
And she sits right there.
Her preferred chair.
Optimal angle where her skirt dangles
As if inviting me to peek;
But she's a woman of chaste.
Thighs meet my eyes fast
But crossed legs ensue laughs.
Forgot my mic was open…………
………………Hey y'all. So sorry.
Love, positivity, prosperity and peace.
Now back to this piece.
She wasn't very wary.
She didn't find me scary.
Enticing eyes engaged me directly.
Her name was Cherry.
Every thread fit her right.
Hands receptive to my grip.
Her skin glows in dim light.
Convenient distraction from moist lips.
She was years beyond sight.
Her soft steps cleared pathways.
I envy the lips she bites.
I wonder about her past days:
Was she always so charismatic?
Are there underlying habits?
Are any of her secrets tragic?
Should I look for black magic?
Man listen:
I'll take her voodoo
With a side of her gumbo
And hardly care if I stumble.
Not muffled.
No mumbles.
I'm usually modest and humble;
But I must document the struggle.
She was fancy.
I often daydream and fancy
Where my hands would be
If she would have me.
She was candy.
My glass of vanilla milk
Mixed with French silk.
Ice cold role so refreshing.
My sense of smell
Lobbied for reasons to inhale
Until my lungs swell;
Bursting with her scent.
Fresh mint in her stare.
Stimulation and percolation.
Invigoration in her dictation.
Her words carry satiation;
But she prefers my prose.
She deserves what she chose;
So in my plain clothes,
I offer literary treasure trove.
Ms. Cherry.
My favorite berry.
Picked fresh and juicy
Amid the bitter, unripe groupies
That clamor for my grammar
With no internal sense of glamor.
They fade into the shade;
But she shines in candor.
Ms. Cherry.
If frank I may be,
Then I might be maybe
Bold enough to tell this lady
That she is so very……
So heavy…………………
Beautiful bevy…………
Routine in her richness.
Delicious in her thickness.
Smooth in her shake
As I hide mine, still stirring.
Her sexy is unnerving.
Ms. Cherry.
Hanging on my words
As they freely spill and splatter.
Cheeks rosy from her laughter.
Anxious mood;
But I'm a chill dude.
Among all that may be,
She came to see me;
Sitting in that chair over there
Long hair and a nice pair.
I would stop and stare…………
Wait……………………………………
What was I talking about?
A world full of doubt?
A society afraid of change?
How typecasts are tied to first names?
That's what I wrote, right?
Right; but the words I don't write
Find forever in this open mic
And these very dim lights…………
Lost my head in her dark red.
Thoughts loose;
Drenched in cherry juice.
Well fed.
Full of fervor after feeding.
I don't think I'll be proceeding.
I apologize for daydreaming.
I guess I'll be leaving…… ♥
Written By: Devin Joseph Metz
She hangs on to every word
Like sounds she never heard.
Her focused stare calms my nerves
And quells the stage fright.
Consecutive Friday nights
And she sits right there.
Her preferred chair.
Optimal angle where her skirt dangles
As if inviting me to peek;
But she's a woman of chaste.
Thighs meet my eyes fast
But crossed legs ensue laughs.
Forgot my mic was open…………
………………Hey y'all. So sorry.
Love, positivity, prosperity and peace.
Now back to this piece.
She wasn't very wary.
She didn't find me scary.
Enticing eyes engaged me directly.
Her name was Cherry.
Every thread fit her right.
Hands receptive to my grip.
Her skin glows in dim light.
Convenient distraction from moist lips.
She was years beyond sight.
Her soft steps cleared pathways.
I envy the lips she bites.
I wonder about her past days:
Was she always so charismatic?
Are there underlying habits?
Are any of her secrets tragic?
Should I look for black magic?
Man listen:
I'll take her voodoo
With a side of her gumbo
And hardly care if I stumble.
Not muffled.
No mumbles.
I'm usually modest and humble;
But I must document the struggle.
She was fancy.
I often daydream and fancy
Where my hands would be
If she would have me.
She was candy.
My glass of vanilla milk
Mixed with French silk.
Ice cold role so refreshing.
My sense of smell
Lobbied for reasons to inhale
Until my lungs swell;
Bursting with her scent.
Fresh mint in her stare.
Stimulation and percolation.
Invigoration in her dictation.
Her words carry satiation;
But she prefers my prose.
She deserves what she chose;
So in my plain clothes,
I offer literary treasure trove.
Ms. Cherry.
My favorite berry.
Picked fresh and juicy
Amid the bitter, unripe groupies
That clamor for my grammar
With no internal sense of glamor.
They fade into the shade;
But she shines in candor.
Ms. Cherry.
If frank I may be,
Then I might be maybe
Bold enough to tell this lady
That she is so very……
So heavy…………………
Beautiful bevy…………
Routine in her richness.
Delicious in her thickness.
Smooth in her shake
As I hide mine, still stirring.
Her sexy is unnerving.
Ms. Cherry.
Hanging on my words
As they freely spill and splatter.
Cheeks rosy from her laughter.
Anxious mood;
But I'm a chill dude.
Among all that may be,
She came to see me;
Sitting in that chair over there
Long hair and a nice pair.
I would stop and stare…………
Wait……………………………………
What was I talking about?
A world full of doubt?
A society afraid of change?
How typecasts are tied to first names?
That's what I wrote, right?
Right; but the words I don't write
Find forever in this open mic
And these very dim lights…………
Lost my head in her dark red.
Thoughts loose;
Drenched in cherry juice.
Well fed.
Full of fervor after feeding.
I don't think I'll be proceeding.
I apologize for daydreaming.
I guess I'll be leaving…… ♥
Written By: Devin Joseph Metz
I loved this!!
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