Mistress Mine

 
I danced her rhythms, long black hair
restless feet dark eyes and pouting lips,
to my shoulders stood and kissed my cheeks
promised more, if I would only wait,
to the floor her gown, swirling in the dance
heeding not the other couples and their knowing smiles.
No doubts, our searches over, no more need to roam.
Burns; this was his night, but we stole the hour,
desecration of a poet's birth, this time was ours.
Thoughtless through the night we danced
gypsy beauty tall and sleek, sultry eyes and willing
breasts pressed close in scarlet, black and gold,
supple hips with promises a plenty,
mistress mine and no more roaming.