Brunette

In the sun, soaking thine hair, a morning of spring, along you sing. Silken threads, binding the darkness of a deep lair, water beads glisten, near the ends they cling. Slender fingers, run through untangled. Dreaming of an aroma rising, I sit afar, struck, mangled. With my eyes in delight surmising. In broad day, a moonlit sheen, a rushed breeze, black strands flailing. Unknown to you, thine affection I glean, my rushed thoughts, in love sailing. (c)Mehraj 2009