Hippie Chick

Hippie girl I used to know.

Hippie oils, hemp and the sweet scent of Nagchampa stench.

Smelling succulent, adorned by feminine pheramone incense.

Sweet to touch when touch is such innocence.

Blessed by as much when my crutch is the words she finishes.

Silhouette shape, olive skin, smiling face, dimple to the right of her chin.

The lines she delivers makes my whole body quiver and shivers.

And I flow like rivers, spilling everything from talkative liquors.

Brushing hair back over shoulders, white or black

And her tresses are falling like dresses in strands through my hands.

Creating messes by this man, restless for her.

That woman with my cigarette brand.

Love is never planned.  When flesh is in hand.   When flesh is in hand...

I am beholden her golden aura spread to the fullest wing span.

 

 

Reviews

[ABitBrokenPoetry]

like this one. love the subtle flow and the intimate imagery here. very well penned, you've captured this persons spirit well.

[E. A. Fielder]

the imagery was beautiful. This was quite a good love poem. I wonder why you decided to make this about a hippie chick.

[C.A.B.S.]

Love poems are very bland for my tastes but when I read this I can actually feel as if I am there. I love the Smell of the inscence and I can almost see the hippie chick in my mind. Very Well done... This is put in My favorites.