The Sensuous Spell Poem by Robert Rittel

Adoration and the forbidden fruits are deceiving,
anticipations of whishing fields delusion.
Knowing that the anticlimax comes with a frost,
above the wisdom of true believes just tossed.
Purgatory is that state of mental expiating,
when that ideal holds the key to relating.
That interconnected process of tapestry as force,
malleable dreams that need a plan of source.
Regarding all life as sacred at once,
thinking of that sphere as treasure in response.
The kiss as intellectual chemistry to fuse,
liberation of mundane to become the divine use.
Sensual alchemy creating a fragrance to taste,
portals of imagination to easy to paste.
The child like heart in contact of magic,
spectrums of aware sensitivities without tragic.
That dancing spirit of a dreaming soul alerts,
among the whispers from other worlds.
The vehicle of truth and reality is build to roam
for the subtle and simple road to take us home.