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OCHANYA (THE QUEEN)

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I have often wondered
On what thoughts she pondered

As we lay on the soft wet sands
Fingers gliding through her hair strands

Her eyes closed tight but moving
Her face expressionless – cheeks glowing

Her nose slightly tilted
A sign of one gifted

The whispering sounds of the cold moist air
As it gently blew against her hair

Letting them fly like a thousand butterfly

The silhouette of the stars reflecting on each strand like gloss
The painter’s loss

Her full lips – slightly parted
My thoughts darted and my eyes marvelled

Her flat stomach and tiny waist opening like pegs
Sitting on her perfectly curved hips and Slim long legs

Her breasts sitting firm upon her chest
With nipples so finely placed – a perfect crest

I think of her too well
Her structure visibly seen
More like a piece – a fine work of nature

She’s Ochanya
Hail the queen!

(C) Alan Delta ‘Grow ‎

Alan Delta ‘Grow is a writer, Poet and Thinker. He loves his own company. He’s inspired by pain and sadness, and has been called weird.‎

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