The dramatic heights of loveliness,
Caressed the soft waves of her hair;
A potent intoxication
Suspended reality in the air.
An hypnotic high; so mellow,
Burnished through enamored eyes.
Mournful tones though, now resound,
In guttural wrenching cries.
The ebb and flow of a peculiar fate;
A world turned on its axis once more.
Those fruits, once thought so delicious,
Are spoiled - rotten to the core.
She had dared to pierce that taut red skin,
Seeking juicy delights beneath,
But neither zing nor sweetness whetted her lips;
An odious pungency caught her teeth.
That wily fervour, from her past
Could not be arrested forever.
Seized by a love; never mutually roused,
Not then, not now – not ever.
© Strauss
22/5/2006
4 comments:
I liked parts of... but honestly... maybe if you don't pay attention to the rhyme it will be much more direct
The Outsider
------------
There is strange and
beauteous darkness in the arbour.
Birds are warbling outside,
bees are murmuring.
I'm not musing anything today.
But they keep coming and
they are.
isn't it?
chandan kumar akella
I likes your poetry,,,
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