Someone once asked me that
question, “Who is Jeanne?”
The reply is more than an answer,
It is thousands and thousands of words.
At first she was just a dulcet voice,
On the distant end of the phone.
Then, she became more, she grew in my heart,
Blossomed into a woman with a sense of humor,
As funny as she could be.
She made me laugh and made me marvel,
At her antics, and her wit.
Especially dear to me,
Was her brilliant mind and her capacity for love,
Her twists of logic, and her playful manner.
Then she began to devise, and
roused from my soul,
That part deep within me, that part that makes me whole,
She breathed the fire of eros into my heart.
Jeanne, coaxed me out of my cave, and invited me to meet.
She was, when finally we gazed, a very familiar face,
Her features rang a profound note in my spirit.
I think we have met before, and loved before.
In some time and some land, prior to my memories of now.
But at that time, that earlier time,
We loved and were kept from one another.
But now we are restored, in each other's arms,
At home, at last, in my Jeanne's arms.
Her lips are so sweet, she loves
to make mine pink,
With her lovely blue eyes, looks deeply into mine.
Often she will meet me, and sometimes forget to close,
All those bothersome buttons on that, oh so lovely, blouse.
Then one day, this lass, lovely Jeanne,
Climbed upon a bench, turned from me to look and see,
Then back to place those breasts of hers,
Right before my eyes, so plump and sweet and firm, they were.
Then we set our bodies afire, and while we abided there,
God kept all the others from us, and allowed us our time alone.
So sweet, so passionate, so hungry she was,
She lit my being, and made me know,
All that I had missed, all that I had to look forward to.
From that time, we closer grew,
and from day-to-day,
Dearer to me, she blossomed, larger than life,
We've had some downs, and from time to time,
Brought teardrops to each other's eyes.
Then, back we bounced, not wallowing in sadness,
But laughing and loving, holding and SMACKING!
To hear her laugh, deep in her throat,
To converse with her and make her blush,
Telling her things that make her sure that others can,
Actually hear her burning thoughts.
This is fun, and helps to make my day,
Pass a little faster, and chases the blues away.
She sometimes smiles and hums to herself,
Making all the other girls want to know,
What secret she has learned, what love she has discovered,
But she and I, we know it.
That is part of who Jeanne is.
Written by Dale E. Malone, Who
is your love?
The Great & Wonderful Kahuna wants to know!
Last
modified: April 26, 2009