Ms Angelou called them rainbows. You know the kind of person that touches your soul.  The brave one not afraid to say hello ask how you doing how’s so and so Crazy how we keep stepping forward but ain’t got enough sense to get…

22 2017 Ekphrastic poem Lady in Black by Paul Robert Sanford Style and elegance trump comfort in her pose head turned sharply to the side to show her chiseled profile. Wasp waisted from wearing iron corsets which over time move the woman’s internal organs permanently….

Waves of creative oceans crashing into beaches of creativity Mountains jettison out over the scenery Inspiration hid like trees in a forest, virtually meeting you at every turn. Mania often thought of as inescapable dare not trespass on these lands Open for interpretation Happiness unprecedented….

Perched on the edge hand resting just so eyes looking backward, dare not to show deep longings for you left lone and unmet bare from chin to deep between my breast my flesh craving your sweet caress perchance you hand may come to rest upon…

Portrait of a Lady alabaster skin against a mermaid gown in black velvet as easily cast aside as the slaves that helped her into it breath held she steadies herself on the society that put her in a corset to keep her in her place

she stood there for a long time admiring this stranger from across the room watching his hand at the small of his dance partner’s back the way they glided effortlessly around the room she couldn’t turn away studied his broad shoulders his dashing eyes handsome…

centered in the sun, yet whiter than a snow-filled cloud, washed in suds of silver clementine. masquerades her smile as privilege; a woman, one never wants to be. perished is a goddess, a tilted nose to scoff this, wearing her shroud amongst guests that are living….

I thought I was ready On Death, my ready quip if ever a question was posed on me: “I am ready, anytime, anywhere. My only wish is let it be an instant, painless going away.” But my mettle was tested 2 days ago. Going down…

Curves sit well on you on your knobby fingers with sweet meat and pink fat, a writer you must be weilding a feather for a pen   curves of flesh on arms intersect with shoulders did you sit meditating squarely or kneading dough plenty gained dimples inside…

the lordly lady In the slim.velvet gown The sweetheart neckline Plunging on a pearl bosom The slender shoulders Proud bearers of a tender neck. The cinched waist The bare arms. Coffee locks Rolled high in a bun. My lady love leans Inviting a kiss.