fingers – Fleeting Muse

From Vault of Memories Past – (Continued)

[I wrote this poem over a span of one month. As the poem is long , I shall post it in parts every Friday. It’s a poem about love but some may find the content semi-erotic. Lest their finer senses be disturbed, be aware and proceed at your own risk.]

Memories from a day in life many decades ago comes flooding back when the love of his life suddenly appears after a prolonged absence.

Link to the previous part : https://wp.me/p73yZZ-4ms

Part III (continued):

She turned her head and
slowly opened her eyes,
From the depth of those
beautiful eyes,
She bored into my soul,
Quizzing and probing
without a word,
Reassured, she turned her head away
and uncrossed her legs,
Spreading them a little
to free my hands;
As I gazed away
To the tapering
long swell of her thighs,
Sloping down from
the rise of her hips,
To the slight dip
of the back of her knees and
rising ever so slowly
over her calves,
Down a beautiful pair of
slender legs,
Daintiest pair of ankles
they met,
One on the right
adorned by a
thin gold anklet;
My gaze shifting to her feet,
I slowly moved my fingers
down her legs and imperceptibly
she curled her toes.[24]
[December 4, 2020]

The rosy heels
of her slender feet,
Curved to meet
a pair of soft soles with
skins as smooth as egg shells,
Her slender feet ending on
toes long and
in a beautiful arch,
From the big toe
to the pinky,
Nails painted in
dark red gloss,
Sweet aroma from the
lush meadows she trod,
Still lingered on her feet,
Her toes danced in a rhythm,
As if priming my fingers to
play music on,
And I did.[25]

Fetish though I had none
for a damsel’s feet,
It would be a lie if I said
I was not attracted,
It would be indeed;
The arches of her feet
were inviting to be tickled,
But I hesitated
fearing how she might feel;
From the tip of her big toe
to her heel,
Gently I moved my fingers and
her calves tensed and moved;
As she crossed her feet
at her ankles and uncrossed,
The anklet caught the sunlight
and danced.[26]

[December 6, 2020]

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From Vault of Memories Past – (Continued)

Memories from a day in life many decades ago comes flooding back when the love of his life suddenly appears after a prolonged absence.

Link to the previous part :https://wp.me/p73yZZ-4md

Part III

Part III (continued):

My hands moved gently,
Tracing the curves of her hips,
Over the seductive rise and
fall to her thighs,
Her smooth skins broke
out in goosebumps,
The hips quaked slightly,
Small tremors danced across
in a slow waltz,
Rising and falling,
Dancing to their own rhythm,
Like waves cresting and
In a trough crashing on the sea shore,
They moved in unison to my delight;
And just where the hips sloped away,
To meet a gorgeous pair of thighs,
The narrow, thin gorge turned,
And lost itself in mysterious unknown;
Patience, my heart,
I cautioned.[22]

Deftly did my fingers dance,
From her slender waist
Up the rise and down her hips,
Over skin smooth as satin,
Her delicate muscles
Danced sublime,
To the magic of my feather touch;
Oh, how did I restrain myself,
And carefully tasted every morsel,
Visual bonanza that was offered
By my lovely damsel;
As I walked with my fingers
Down the gentle slopes,
I could sense a stiffening of
Her delicate muscles;
Expecting? a heightened desire? hesitation?
I was not sure;
Ever so slowly she moved
and crossed her legs,
And my fingers were imprisoned
in the soft nothingness of her
inner thighs;
I was mortified.[23]

[December 4, 2020]

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From Vault of Memories Past – (Continued)

Memories from a day in life many decades ago comes flooding back when the love of his life suddenly appears after a prolonged absence.

Link to the previous part :https://https://wp.me/p73yZZ-4m6

Part III

Tried as much as we wished
to hold on to the moment and
stay in that eternal embrace,
Our racing hearts had
lost all controls and
a wild warmth was spreading fast.
With a sigh
she let go of me and
hid her face in her palms,
She turned her face away,
Turned her back to me and
lay face down on the meadows.
A streak of ray through the leaves,
Lighted her back in an ethereal glow,
Cascading dark hairs down her spine,
To the bottom of the
sensuous rise of her hips,
Contrasting the silky smooth
skin on her back,
Glowing in the afternoon sun;
She lay there
as if in a trance,
barely moving.
Her bare back
a canvas for me to paint,
My fingers as a brush
I gingerly proceeded,
Parting her hair tenderly,
I touched the nape of her neck,
An audible gasp escaped her lips,
She shuddered and tensed,
then relaxed;
And she smiled.[20]

As my fingers played
music down her spine,
Gently touching and
probing down the center line,
She tensed and
relaxed in a rhythm,
I could feel her muscles
through her smooth skin,
dancing to my tune,
And slowly I moved down.
Her back narrowed
from her shoulder to her waist,
And then spread wide
to encompass the voluptuous rise,
I sauntered at the slight dip
where her spine met
the narrow, deep gorge
parting her hips;
Fearful of where that
dark deep gorge lead,
I ventured no more.
As she hesitated
and hold her breath
and lay motionless,
I gazed away
from the temptation.[21]

[December 4, 2020]

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From Vault of Memories Past – (Continued)

Memories from a day in life many decades ago comes flooding back when the love of his life suddenly appears after a prolonged absence.

Link to the previous part :https://wp.me/p73yZZ-4m2

Part II(continued)

Curvaceous beauty she was not,
Not someone’s idea of right proportions,
A bud about to blossom into a fragrant flower,
Vibrant and mellow,
Neither thin like a reed blowing in the wind,
Nor amply endowed but plump where it mattered,
She had her flaws that filled my heart with joy;
If I would have been a sculptor,
I would have taken a chisel in my hand
and sculpted her on the finest stone;
Like Venus De Milo,
her sculpture would have stood there on the meadows,
Beauty personified, a gift from God;
Alas, sculptor I was not,
I failed to immortalize thee,
But my love,
I sculpted every detail that I can see,
Tenderly in my heart it would be;
As the poet once said,
“A thing of beauty is a joy for ever”,
There, in my heart,
you would remain till end of eternity,
And I would selfishly enjoy your memory.[17]

Oh, how I describe your beauty,
words fail me;
I could only gaze in wonder
as my fingers moved gently over your flat belly,
A navel perfectly formed
with a thin line of hair moving down,
lost in the valley below;
As my hand moved down,
The smooth belly tensed
and firmed under my hand;
Your spine arched
and your slender graceful hand
held me in a strong embrace;
You rested your head on my shoulders,
Finely manicured nails
digging deep into the skin of my back;
Fine, thin silky hairs
at the nape of your neck
standing erect,
Your chest crushing into mine,
Heaving and throbbing;
You cried.[18]

Gently did I embrace you,
My finger tips moving slowly down
following the curve of your spine;
It must have tingled
when my fingers reached the base
where it joined the valley
between the rise
of the voluptuous half moons spread wide;
The quivering tremors
rushed across your body to me,
How was I aroused
as you hold me tight
and moved your hands gingerly down;
An eternity must have passed
as our bodies were so entwined,
Nary a hair could have passed
between us
as we stayed in that pleasant embrace;
You raised your head,
Looked into my eyes,
And you smiled;
Somewhere the forbidden fruit fell and
on that meadow,
I found my heaven. [19]

[December 3, 2020]

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In silence they came

In silence they came,

Slowly,

One by one,

Trickling in,but

In a steady stream,

Then the dam burst,

And they rushed in;

A torrent, a deluge,

How to make sense,

Of everything jumbled up.

Nudged me gently,

And then dragged me

From my slumber;

Swiftly I drew,

As my fingers flew,

From the madness emerged

An illusion

An apparition,

A celestial dance;

Music unspoken

Lulled me,

As I dozed,

And surrenderered to her arms;

Silently they left,

One by one;

She slipped away,

Leaving me with a memory

Etched in my heart.

Now where shall I find

The words,

To paint my masterpiece,

She still dancing

In my mind,

My muse eternal.

Creating Masterpiece

Trial and error a thousand times,fingers cramped,many a midnight candles burnt.
Pages of old dictionary dogeared, torn clef notes crumpled and lie scattered.
Masterpiece created , bliss and solitude, tired keys of the piano keyboard silent and thankful at last.

3LineTalesWeek11

Three line poem, maximum 100 words, based on the photo above