Magpie Tales: The Scent of the Rose

I sing to thee
from a century
hence
from the purest
innocence
of desire

my senses
stirred
by the
scent of the buds
of the roses
and bud of your rose
under your robes
and feminine beauty
shaped full
and free
from your clothes

fresh
quiet fountains
bubble and trickle
like youth
bringing out in me
the lust and longing
of my adolescence
how did you feel
when you yielded
in your pose?

did you imagine
as you lay there
that others
would succumb
and dream
of you
of your ankles
and your arches
to caress
and to warm
your slender toes
and send
a tender kiss
through the century
on your summer lips?

my quest is finished
now
all I could give you
were words
to show
a century hence
that a man
can still be stirred
by the way you lay
undisturbed
your beauty ethereal
exquisite
timelessly touched
by a paintbrush
while I
can only wish
you knew

Sweet Summer, 1912, John William Waterhouse

Knowing that the winds of these times would cause some to cast a disapproving glance askance I decided on the mildly controversial here. Those who think she should cover up are just plain wrong. There are nude statues of men from the Renaissance back, and I feel that the angle of supposed 'exploitation' is just cheap and nihilistic here, as well as alarmingly fundamentalist. Of course the tone of the poem is not as innocent as it claims, but that is to unsettle. The appreciation remains genuine.