In curves that speak of life’s tender grace,
They are silhouettes one yearns to trace,
A sculptor’s dream in the softest form,
Whispering secrets, gentle and warm.
Beneath a veil of silk and lace,
Or bared to the sun’s bright face,
They hold the stories of ancient lore
Of ardent passion and so much more.
In ev’ry hue, a palette divine,
Mysteries woven in each design,
A cradle of comfort, pure and deep,
Where a heart finds solace, secrets keep.
Oh, sacred hills of flesh and delight,
In you, the universe makes things right.
A symphony of soft slopes and swells,
Where heaven’s treasure and beauty dwells.
To cherish you is to embrace the whole,
The essence of life, the heart and the soul,
For in your enchanting vale, I find rest,
A sweet sanctuary, forever blessed.
© 1971, Kenneth Koziol. All rights reserved.