A Queen

A ghazal poem My Queens hands which hold my heart squeeze tender,Whilst lips which taste your body please tender, Neck sweat, pepper and spice, busy laneways,The bazaar where merchants try seize tender,Sultry Arabian nights will shiver,At shaking limbs, trembling, moist, tease tender,Moon blushed pale, sharing soft tongues in the dark,Wolves howling, teeth on skin, easeContinue reading “A Queen”