Lucky the onlooker

photo: Dora Kazmierak


Morning mirror, self-critical stare,

wonder-woven copper-coloured hair:

smitten male stunned, blinded by flare.


Burnish-brushed, her gamine mane,

humming hymnal, nothing plain:

swear secret oath, O sweet swain.


Bountifully bless-ed by girlish grace,

finely finger-twisted, ply in place:

shyly smile and show thy face.


Lucky onlooker seeing braids unbind:

her tumbling tresses slowly unwind:

intoxicate him, unbalance his mind…


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