Suzanne Malveaux............
Thinking of Suzanne,
saying her name in my mind and after a deep exhale, the
immediate inhale has me smelling roses and a delicious wine
while I stare across a table with fine white linens and soft
candle light. She is glorious. She is as rich as the Caymus
Cabernet Sauvignon in which she holds beneath her perfect nose –
her delicate hand pausing while her eyes reflect the velvety red
of the earthy wine. Suzanne is the person I would most like to
spend Valentine’s Day with. I smile inside and out when she
comes on the TV screen. She is beautiful. Whether she is
standing with the backdrop of
Crawford, Texas or the White House, she commands my
respect in an austere manner as if I was in
Austria – in
Vienna with dignitaries and royalty.
Who's this who leads me to you against my will,
alas, alas, alas,
bound and confined,
though I'm still free and loose?
If you can chain others
without a chain,
and without hands or
arms you've drawn me in,
who will defend me from
your beautiful face?
The Poetry of Michelangelo
