Sandra E. Morris: Beauty of the Bald Head
Beauty of the Bald Head
©1998 Sandra E. Morris
Panther-like, he loped past me with a wink. The shiny dome beckoning To my womanliness Strikes a chord within And a smile without. Unbidden comes an image Of tenderly cradling that head Between breasts.
How is it that a black man Bares his head so beautifully?
Isaac in the 70’s With smouldering sensuality Casts Yule far in the shade.
Ebony, café au lait, cocoa, nutmeg, caramel All gleam in a myriad of hues Catching my eye And my fancy.
Somehow, the symmetry must be right. The tilt and shape of the slightly large ears, The smooth, roundness of the pate, The pride that hangs like an unseen mantle.
Bald headed friends patiently endure Fingers lightly Massaging Tickling Stroking And pressing scalp As I behold the beauty of the Bald Head.
Chemistry
©1998 Sandra E. Morris
A mingling of sighs, Each pulse quickening next to the other Is a sign of a connection.
Further still, is the joy clamouring when you gently Raise the gooseflesh from my skin with your callused fingertips, Or lap Lightly from my juicy nether lips. One work evokes a smile from either Conjuring up a moment past, As we speak that special language.
How is it that the very lines of those brawny, brown biceps Flexing As you whip up a fragrant dish Make my mouth water?
Or that you doubt the power of the deep, mellifluous tones Caressing My eardrums, Redolent of soothing notes of the bass pan?
Isn’t it clear that your special scent Tickles My fancy, As I lean in closer for a wordless embrace?
Yes, you fine brother Instinctively Mastered the art of chemistry.