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-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]

© Pranabendra Sarma, 2021

Connect with me in twitter @pranabsarma2020

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]

© Pranabendra Sarma, 2021

Connect with me in twitter @pranabsarma2020

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-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 foun
d my heaven. [19]

[December 3, 2020]

© Pranabendra Sarma, 2021

Connect with me in twitter @pranabsarma2020

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.]

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

Part II

Patience my heart, I told myself,
Enjoy the moment and don’t rush;
But the moment took over

and we lost ourselves to love,
Blushing cheeks of my love

turned crimson red;
Was the sun getting warmer

or the meadow on fire?
She gently took my hand on hers

and embraced me,
Her slender arms around me, caressing,

As if to reassure,
Eyelids opening slightly,

fluttering like a butterfly,
She smiled,
And my heart molt.
[13]

She took my hand,
Kissed it once, kissed twice,
And gently put my hand
On her heart
;
The air went out of my chest,
As her warm breath touched my face,
Brushing my cheeks lightly,

Her sweet breath shortened,
A sense of urgency that I wanted to prolong;
And with every breath,
Her heart racing,
Her twin peaks of desire rose and fell
As she gently squeezed my hand
and pressed it down,
The floodgates of heaven were thrown open
and passion rushed in,
My resolve failed.
[14]

Those two throbbing balls of desire
gently curving up,
Never had my eyes behold
such a delightful sight;
Firm like an orange

but soft like a ripe mango,
Dancing in tandem
with her rapid breath;
Inviting and alluring,

Supple and soft
Tempting and seducing,
Demanding explorations
but also entreating

a gentle handling, and
as I traced their graceful curves,
She moaned,
Breathing a contented sigh.
[15]

Warmth radiating from her
Slowly engulfed me in a trance,

From her dimpled chin
drops of sweat fell
to the base of her graceful neck;

The tiny rivulet coursing
ever so slowly down

through her heaving bosom,
As a river meanders
from its source to the ocean;
I gazed transfixed

as I traced its course,
Her velvety smooth skin
offering no resistance to the flow,

It emerged from the narrow pass
of her breasts

into the flat valley below;
The glistening stream

pooled for a second
in the slight depression

of her navel,
And a fear raced through
my mind,
I stopped.
[16]

[December 1, 2020]

© Pranabendra Sarma, 2021

Connect with me in twitter @pranabsarma2020

Betrayal

O’ ye in the wild,
Is it wise
For the wild
To trust human,
And be deceived
By his treachery?
Alas, in that faith
Is written
Its doom,
For sure
As the sun rises
In the east,
Betrayal will follow soon.

Beware ye all,
The denizen of the wild,
On the altar of progress,
Humans have sacrificed
Their future,
And in the rush
To escape the confines
Of their only home
They have known,
Everything that stand
In their path of greed
Are collateral damage.

Happily they march
To their oblivion,
These masters of none,
And in their ignorance,
Destroy the only heaven
They have ever known.

Dragonfly

Sunrays filtering through her translucent wings,
As she rose effortlessly,
What a beauty she was,
Pure and unspoiled,
As I ran after her,
Oblivious,
She hopped from flower to flower,
Oh such a beautiful day,
Shiny and bright,
Such a joy it was,
To be with the
Dragonfly in flight.

Why did you steal my
Childhood from me,
You, who dress in piety,
Those lips that proclaim the
Name of God incessantly,
How can it hide teeth so sharp,
Shredding me to pieces,
You who proclaim special days
For children, women and mothers,
Speak of the divine and of heaven,
Did you ever think of hell,
When you stole my childhood
From me and left me to rot,
In your hell.

The wings are now torn,
No more translucent,
They don’t reflect
the sunlight no more,
Its limp body shaking,
The dragonfly lies in the
Palm of my hand,
I close my fist,
Darkness.
There goes a monster,
He says,
Piously calling God,
And
Praying for my salvation.

Ah, do you notice
The dark shadows
Of sin
As the saints
March in.

Original Sin and the Forbidden Fruit

Thy thin waist, the
Twin crescent moons,
In those curves
I dive,
Douse my love, and
Emerge purified;
The puritans, the believers,
Paint it as lust.


Those who look for beauty,
Only in merging with
The one unseen,
Blind are they to nature’s gifts, and
Brush it as the original sin.


Let them search
For the fountain of
Everlasting peace in heaven,
One never seen,
I have found mine
In my imagination,
And is blessed,
By the forbidden fruit.