she perches on the rustic porch
in a rain soaked vintage gown of white,
perfect nipples amidst supple breast.
by virtue of the heavens tears;
unveiled
through a fitted Edwardian.
her tresses wet and gleaming of ebony,
she emanates a smell of him.
the rainfall dances onto the earth
and the harvest moon is at full cirque...
December 11, 2013~ July Jennifer
a poem I will continue over time...I want this to be a poem/sonnet that is discovered through time♥