poetry

Open Book

My life’s an open book, 

just reaching out to be read, 

walking past it, flips the pages, 

to my mind’s opened lair.

Impossible, to consume a few words, to summarize it’s depth, 

as historical legacies, takes lead, step by step.

Calling out to open minds, 

to inhale its ambrosia. 

An aphrodisiac, 

that reaches out and holds you. 

No displays of fabled lies, 

only truths, 

sweetest chocolate essence, captured in a sunset’s eyes. 

The ambiance is set, to read by  candle light. 

Offering assistance toward the minds’ delightful flight.

To, not just be read in silence, 

but whispered word for word. 

No absence of nostalgia, 

for it arouses you to splurge. 

As sultry lips mumble words, 

that completely come alive. 

Triggering, all desires, 

the body has inside.

Word’s strike each nerve, 

to it’s fulfilling ending.

Becoming an addictive tool, 

in which you come to depend.

So mesmerizing, when you lay it down, 

it inadvertently, calls out to you.

Seductively, opening wide, 

allowing, a peek or two.

Not long after, comes satisfaction’s grin, 

from all the winding skills.

As each line captivates,

making your mind and body, 

wear chills.

You go on to the next chapter, 

as time’s keeper, is no longer expertise. 

Holding on to every word, 

as it brings you to your knees. 

It grips you abruptly, 

as you realize,

your mind can’t be released.

For I write of quality, 

for the mind‘s pleasure, 

and willingly, I aim to please.

Poetry By,Tamara Moore

Thinker on the loose

Poetry of emotion~

Copyright  (c) 2017 

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