Revised You

I posted the poem you yesterday I have reviewed it and changed and hopefully improved it what do you think? 
You.
There is no mistaking you,

Standing poised by the jeep, 

Surrounded by  fractured light, like

a being from another  dimension,

Your head thrown back, emitting sounds

that I cannot hear,

 I am imagining, the infectious

booming laughter, rolling from your lips. 

 

Images blown like paper, stirring, in the draught

from an open window,

Random thoughts of you, connected like patchwork.
As I move closer, you shift, showing

your chiselled profile, from under 

the blue baseball cap,

The dark blue fatigues emphasise the sculpted

compactness of your form,

 I walk quietly towards you, but some sixth sense,

Causes you to turn, and I am caught 

mesmerised, by the brightness of your gaze,

Those glorious grey eyes flecked with gold, dominant 

your tanned face, drawing me into your world, your soul ,

My heart hammers.

 Images blown like paper, stirring, in the draught

 from an open window,

Random thoughts of you, connected like patchwork.
I see the colours, the colours of the African day,

Reflected in the honey toned 

clarity of your skin, 

The vividness of your eyes, the glinting silver 

stubble  on your chin, 

and the crow’s feet wrinkles, 

mirroring the drought parched land.

Etched in memory.
Images blown like paper, stirring, in the draught

 from an open window,

Random thoughts of you, connected like patchwork.
 

Firm lips, corners kinked, into the hint of a smile,

 Speak words in accent less English,

Always a surprise given your antecedents, 

There is a hint of croaky gravelliness,  in your diction,

 Some harshness evident,  like the croak of an eagle,

You turn back, then lope off with

 long strides, lithe as a big cat,

Your controlled movements, denote a man of action,

Sexuality oozes, even from your retreating form,

How can you be defined?

My Patchwork picture has empty squares.

 Images blown like paper, stirring, in the draught

 from an open window,

Random thoughts of you, connected like patchwork.
There is a cold breeze raising goosebumps on my skin,

As you disappear into the heat haze,

Hopes, dreams, and beliefs unshared,

Images blown like paper, Stirring, in the draught 

from an open window,

Random thoughts of you, connected like patchwork,

Whirling, swirling always mine.

 


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