Innuendo

Innuendo's  Crescendo!

 

 

My passion rages cold, yet hot with endeavor --

 Sun dances on ancient snow white faces, cold as ice, in the noon day sun...

Ever in my memory: glistening like white diamonds, luring me onward.

 

At first glance cold, solid, but  yielding --

Then flying forth in sprays of fine diamond dust...

Creating mythical magic that feints to melt away in the bright light of day.

 

My passion chills me, thrills me --

Till my  face blushes with the cold heat of it...

My muscles pain with the strain.

 

The sheer demand of the heights, the dips, the turns, the leaps --

In my serene yet ecstatic, ever challenging, changing passion...

The crescendo of experience!

 

Conquering what cannot be conquered --

The thrill of joining for awhile, becoming one, with the exhilaration of exertion...

The mountain the giver of experience and I, the one experiencing:.

 

Feeling every sense keen to the least innuendo!

 

Bonnie Marie 3-11-97 c- 97
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