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]

© 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-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

Sunset of love

Nothing changed here from yesterday
As he gazed forlornly at the setting sun
Carpet of grass like velvet
Foliage turning crimson red
Catching the color of sunset
It was here that they had their first kiss
The fiery sunset paled
By the fire burning in their hearts
Her lips flaming red
Was it the passion
Or captured color of sunset
Rushing libido unleashed
He returned her every kiss
Little did he realize
Seduction was in her heart
Like the leaves of fall
One moment grandiose
Coloring the forest fiery red
And gone, blown away, dead
Passion subdued, her lips pale
Heart filled with apprehension he inquired
What’s wrong, anything he had done
Nothing my love, nothing is wrong
Sun has set, it’s time to go home
In a flash like the last rays of setting sun
With a swing of her hips, she was gone
With no promise to return
The kiss was for him to keep
Sunset of love
The hurt was deep indeed


This poem is in response to Jane Dougherty’s A Month (November) with Yeats Challenge day Five

whyhistorymatters

Not even the dead will be safe from the enemy, if he is victorious. And this enemy has not ceased to be victorious.- Walter Benjamin

सिफ़र.

Everything and Nothing. And then some words.

ELATE! - Evolve, Love And Transform Everyday!

taking daily steps towards achieving our health and life potential

From The Quill

Aren't songs of grief lullabies to the lost?

Confab With Me

Aphorisms, Poetries, Stories and More...

Smorgasbord Blog Magazine

Blog magazine for lovers of health, food, books, music, humour and life in general

Musings

What comes to me as a still, small voice in the atmosphere of daylight and evening. © Mario Savioni and Musings, 2013. Unauthorized use or duplication of this material without the consent of the author is prohibited. Small (100 words or less) excerpts or links are permitted as long as credit is given to Mario Savioni with direction to the original content. Please refrain from “reblogging” posts.

Megha's World

A potpourri of emotions

Expat Journal: Postcards from the Edge

International photographer wandering the globe . . .

Harold Strauss

Poetry of Moments.

Emotional Shadows

where all emotions are cared for!

Words From A Borderline

Poets bleed from the heart and soul

Chèvrefeuille's haiku

A great WordPress.com site

The Hackney Hiker

Adventures in hiking

But I Smile Anyway...

Musings and memories, words and wisdom... of a working family woman

Sweet aroma

Our lives are a Christ-like fragrance rising up to God...2 Corinthians 2:15

like mercury colliding...

...moments of unexpected clarity

Annette Rochelle Aben

~ Communicator, WordSmith, Artist, Guide, Mentor, Muse ~

dribblingpensioner

Just another pensioner with his thoughts if he can remember them

London Wlogger

Walking blogger exploring London's hidden gems, parks, bridges, landmarks, sights and history!

Be Inspired..!!

Listen to your inner self..it has all the answers..

JUST JOAN 42

poetry and stories about life, the universe, and everything

Specks and Fragments

home of the elusive trope

Seal Matches

Stories & News

yaskhan

Poetry, Photography, haiku,

Geetha Balvannanathan's Blog - Isis Tratum

Poems, thoughts, healing, other art works (pictures, songs and videos not made by me belong to their authors, the rest being mine) © 2010-2046

Haddon Musings

There are 11,507 stories in Haddonfield; this is one of them.

Philip Craddock Writing Portfolio

Daring to Dream: Short stories, poetry & songs. Next target: 300 Followers.

Shawn L. Bird

Original poetry, commentary, and fiction. All copyrights reserved.

Principle Michelle

Training Them Up and Onward

Aidan J. Reid

Sci-Fi Nut First. Thriller Author Second.

Author Don Massenzio

Independent Authors Unite!

BeautyBeyondBones

Because we’re all recovering from something.

Dutch goes the Photo!

Focus Hocus Pocus

Sarah Doughty

Novelist, Poet, Wordsmith

Peace in Darkness

weird alien 👽

Foxes and Magnolias

Poetry for keepsakes, for longing, for letting go.

ronovanwrites

Author, Poet, Blogger, Father, Reader And More

Poet's Corner

Poems, poets, poetry, writing, poetry challenges

Uncovered

Below the surface thoughts to lift you up