Beauty of the Bald Head

©1998 Sandra E. Morris
Panther-like, he loped past me with a wink.
The shiny dome beckoning
To my womanliness
Strikes a chord within
And a smile without.
Unbidden comes an image
Of tenderly cradling that head
Between breasts.

How is it that a black man
Bares his head so beautifully?

Isaac in the 70’s
With smouldering sensuality
Casts Yule far in the shade.

Ebony, café au lait, cocoa, nutmeg, caramel
All gleam in a myriad of hues
Catching my eye
And my fancy.

Somehow, the symmetry must be right.
The tilt and shape of the slightly large ears,
The smooth, roundness of the pate,
The pride that hangs like an unseen mantle.

Bald headed friends patiently endure
Fingers lightly
And pressing scalp
As I behold the beauty of the Bald Head.


©1998 Sandra E. Morris
A mingling of sighs,
Each pulse quickening next to the other
Is a sign of a connection.

Further still, is the joy clamouring when you gently
the gooseflesh from my skin
with your callused fingertips,
Or lap
Lightly from my juicy nether lips.
One work evokes a smile from either
Conjuring up a moment past,
As we speak that special language.

How is it that the very lines of those brawny, brown biceps
As you whip up a fragrant dish
Make my mouth water?

Or that you doubt the power  of the deep, mellifluous tones
My eardrums,
Redolent of soothing notes of the bass pan?

Isn’t it clear that your special scent
My fancy,
As I lean in closer for a wordless embrace?

Yes, you fine brother
Mastered the art of chemistry.
[click to view introduction]