hair – 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://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]

Connect with me in twitter @pranabsarma2020

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]

Connect with me in twitter @pranabsarma2020

Milestone or Kilometerstone?

It seems I reached a milestone yesterday as was confirmed by WordPress, “Congratulations on writing 500 posts on Fleeting Muse!”. I certainly had not been keeping tabs. I started my blog around November of 2015, so somewhere I must have crossed my two years anniversary but did not realize it.
post-milestone-500-2xjpg

Initially I thought the milestone was for my first food recipe post yesterday. Incidentally that was the blog that made me achieve the milestone of 500 posts. That post also achieved more “likes” much quicker than any of my poems. That made me think about my blog. As my readers may be aware that my passion is writing poetry. Though I diverge from time to time, I always come back to writing poetry. So why did my recipe got more likes quicker than any of my poems? Hmmm….
thinking
Is it because,
1. People like food more compared to reading poems, or
2. I have more potential for success as a food blogger than poet, or
3. The photo of the soup bowl with the recipe was really inviting, or last but not the least,
4. I am a lousy poet ( ouch, that hurts)

Unlike the person on the cartoon, I can’t scratch my head for long. Precious few strands of hair that I have on top are far more valuable than finding an answer to my questions at present. Also my belly is sending distress signals to my brain, warning me to complete my writing at the earliest before it goes into a hunger strike.

I realized I did not address my title at all. That will be for another day. Right now I need to put some food in my tummy to calm it down.

Well, I may have gotten the answer to my question there.