The Queen of Dunes

She spills the dusk till night's complete, 
her lucent dew in art discrete.
A twilit motion to defeat, 
her prey to bathe her desert feet.

My Persian bride, the queen of dunes, 
from mysteries sweet her essence blooms.
When veiled her day her night resumes 
bejeweling skies with pearly moons. 

Dismounting light to darkling charms, 
the hues of evening, she disarms.
Bring into be in loving arms, 
embraced the night in all she yearns.

Her dueling stars of ancient forms
break into shards of yester storms.
Leave clouds their past, who there but mourns 
these vibrant skies that she adorns.

Hold sway the dunes of Persian might
from havoc groomed to make polite. 
Her sands wear still, each grain in sight, 
weave diamond gowns to dress the night.

The silence sips desire's brew
in tented dreams, within, with you.
The burning lamps, the precious dew
on flesh as pure as love is true.

From whence the arts of hearts in rhyme, 
to poise in verse, entwined we dine.
On dates and figs from orchard's vine
with passions doused in ruby wine.

Of flesh on flesh 'neath scented hide, 
enshrined in love, in love abide.
Who'd dare intrude, these veils divide
from desert nights, my Persian bride.