Today’s
poem last appeared on the blog about 18 months ago and I have been asked to
repeat it by ‘Rhys’ who says he can relate 'only too well' to the poem, but adds that he later found love again with his partner 'Owen' with whom he has been living for several 'very happy' years.
It is perhaps appropriate that the poem should follow hot on the heels of yesterday's post and poem...
THE
YEARLING
You body
relaxed,
the tip
of your tongue stroking my lips
as we
made love,
exploring,
adoring, each other’s bodies,
oh, so
tenderly at the start
then
letting rip with pent-up passions
of the
heart
It was
our first time
and you
gave no hint It would be our last
as we
made love
in a
manner that was sheer poetry
desire in
perfect rhythm,
naked
flesh feeding on the pleasures
of wet
dreams
We became
as one,
riding a
pale yearling over misty meadows,
majestic
mountains,
finally down
heather-scented slopes
leading
to the sea
where we
lay, spent, on a sandy shore
content
in its embrace
I stroked
your hair
where its
flames but flickered in the hearth
you’d
made of my heart
and I
longed to rouse your heat in me
again,
again, again…
even as
each exquisite flame died
one by
one
You
stirred, kissed me
until my
mouth felt bruised by the intensity
of that
long goodbye
though
not as I sensed you’d have it be
but much
the same as I,
lying in
sun-kissed sand, no one
making
demands
That kiss
was magic, its spell cruelly broken,
your mind
set on marrying a woman
Copyright
R. N. Taber 2010
0 comments:
Post a Comment