Black Madonna Eyes

Black Madonna Eyes
   
Blue jeaned honey drop of heaven    
Prances busily as a bee    
A coffee wielding Calypso      
Dips with precocious posterior    
Posed behind cashier lass    
So while she rings him up    
His eyes feel the urgency      
Of her crescent moonrise    
   
He feels the same excitement
When as a kid in New Orleans
He built a fire to explode oyster shells
And her luster is that of mother of pearl
But her eyes dark as the Black Madonna
Painted in a Polish monastery
Where mysteries find a foothold
To climb the mountain of solitude
Upon whose summit marriage waits
On a night when the air heavy with coffee