Poetry in Pleasure

Their wide eyes met,

And she knew this was when

All the world would grow silent,

This her night with a poet of men;

She knew his hands 

Would be like couplets together,

The sleeves of her gown

Slipping and becoming as light as feathers

Though her heart pounded madly;

What was left fell to her waist,

And she stood cold,

Her uncertain smile but a taste

Of what he guessed to expect

When really he was as confused-

They told themselves this was worth the wait,

Now their love able to be pure and true.

Alliteration was likely,

His nonsense words unable to not be smooth;

It was his strength,

His poetry the only way to soothe

Her panicked pulse and merciless mind

As she remembered all her fantasies;

The moment seemed too good to be true,

But she told herself it had to be.

She wanted a steady meter

In their agonizing, amazing act;

She wanted the feel of a sonnet,

The syllable choice to stay intact

For they were to be his touch

And everything he had ever felt;

They were to control her fire,

To make her burn and make her melt.

The flame she knew 

Was obvious in her gaze;

A smirk tugged on the corner of her mouth,

For she could already hear his praise-

She heard her favorite

Metaphors and similes,

The same he had used time and again

To make her forget how to breathe.

He simply could not help this-

He had a poet’s pen within his mind;

He only prayed that through the bliss

At least one cinquain he could find.

He doubted the lines would not be choppy,

Fearing he would not even remember

The way her eyes mirrored her soul,

That her delicateness mimicked December.

Her burning blush explained

What her tongue could not express;

She drew in a steely breath

As around her feet fell the dress.

She told herself he would be gentle,

She told herself this was the time;

She prayed the night would never end,

Their bodies keeping rhyme. 

Reviews

[The 13th Eros]

You could melt winter with your words; poetry unleashed in all its glory. Every verse holds a clue... a kiss... a poetic twist of fates, bound in the enchantment of poetic expressions. Yes, the mind is the sweet place where all bliss begins. Then all else can unfold at will.

[Sarah Marie]

Your reviews make me want to write poems just as sweet and alluring and magical....glad to see I have not disappointed yet! I look forward to reviews just as enthralling as this one!

[The 13th Eros]

Oh, you won't be able to keep me away now! Write it and I will come... ;)

[Anthony Lejarzar]

Very well written I love the way you express yourself deeply its almost as painting a picture you make it come alive good job.

[Sarah Marie]

Thanks! Glad you like it

[not here]

What a creative venture this turned out to be, hey.
Not bad at all, Sarah.
(I was wondering "how on earth will she work onomatopoeia into this?")...lol
A clever piece, and one that I doubt I would ever attempt.
Thanks for sharing. Your creativity and discipline is admirable.