George was no longer young in years,
In his head he was still a prime Lothario.
Life had placed him into the arms of love,
His charisma and charms worked wonders.
Voices of angels flocked to adorn his being,
Musical Madams caressed with dulcet tones.
Dressed in yards of satins and lace to entice,
Passions were raised as high as the old beams.
Burlesque ladies invited gentlemen’s attentions,
Belle of Bellend still turned heads in her twilight.
Fragile faces with fading names lost in memories,
Little black books slowly stowed in dusty dressers.
Those were the good old days with Flaming Nolette,
A fiery tempered beauty with locks of long red hair.
Her vicious outbursts endeared her to a following,
Captivated by her false niceties and daring tirade.
Flickers of recognition kept the old songs in mind,
Hearts were broken and rekindled in many lifetimes.
©Copyright Eileen T O’Neill 01/04/2015
Poetry Jam Prompt:’ The Flame.’..