Weaver

Speak in tongues and no one sees
Lies and misconceptions weaved
Wave your arms, a stunning dance
That sultry look and upward glance

Your beauty hammer-fists bestow
Your wanton lust the strong kowtows
Beguile, denude, bend to your will
Ever pressure, till breast stands still

A tearing, searing, screaming howl
Cannot pass your defensive cowl
You shield that inner sensitive soul
With welded links and practiced role

Come a day, when chinks appear
When guards are dropped and thoughts unclear
A brilliant light becomes a sword
And songs once sung peel final chords

Weaver

Mark German

Strathmore, Australia

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