She moves with chili pepper heat

Mien zaftig Saffira

Saffira is a beautiful zaftig woman,
Entering a room with a feathery swish.
All the men gasp, become quiet,
Silent except for a slight susurrus,
An undertone of electrical crackle.
The women complain, saying of her,
“A tuches un a halb!” – no, not Saffira.
The older women call after her,
“Chap ein a meesa meshina!”
Saffira only smiles, warmly, knowingly,
A smile that could illuminate any castle.
There is a small starfish tattoo on
The swell of her left breast.
Some thought it to be a Star of David,
But it is in truth a starfish.
The colors of this aquatic creature have
A luminescence that is ethereal.
As she moves, her oceans gently sway
And the starfish swims in rhythm.
She walks lightly with a crisp step,
The oscillation of her hips, sensuous.
Her eyes the color of African amethyst
With flashes of turquoise specks.
A glance from Saffira envelops one
In a saffron glow, a chili pepper heat.
She is ebullient with life’s joys
Showing her resilience and resoluteness.
Saffira is a living Rubens work of art,
An effervescent sparkle of the Divinity.
Males seem poised to zoom in upon her,
Desiring to crack the crunchy acorn of lust.
But then she dances across the floor,
Saffira sees only me and I see only her.

Written for Wordle prompt #3

Copyright: 2008, Donald Harbour