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Poem
He was ever gentle with her
always careful
composed
never passing the boundaries
never asking too much
a man of his culture
and bearing
didn’t move too fast

She was a flower
pristine...virginal
a flower he had plucked
from her family’s garden
with their blessing
she was safe in his keeping
though her scent drove him mad
its floral fragrance fascinating
deliriously desirous
she was fresh and innocent
he meant to make her bloom

He was patient
It was enough that she had consented to be his
she admired him
that he knew
it would be enough
enough
for now…

And so he waited
willing for her to feel
admiration turn to love
love turn to passion
and so, he put her in a vase
filled with the nourishment of his love
and he tended to her
admiring her
his fragrant rose

Tonight he showed her the home
that would be hers
theirs….

But what was this?
that look in her eye
different
the shyness gone
he saw…. longing
her face radiant
her lips inviting
petal pink
to match her cheeks
his rose
his flower
HIS
and yet
he dared not touch her that way
for fear of crushing her
in his rough hands

She whispered
ever so lightly
perhaps he dreamed it
maybe it was the breeze
whispering through the window
as it danced in her hair

No, there it was again…
“It is time…
I am ready.”
the meaning of her words
hung in the space between them
making it impossible to breathe
or even to think

And he watched
incapable of movement
as she stepped away from him
in the middle of the room
she turned to look at him
and one by one
she unfurled the petals
of her clothing
and let them fall down
fluttering to the floor
layer upon layer…discarded
all the while
as she undressed
ever so slowly
her eyes invited him

There she stood
with no covering
her raven hair
cascaded down her skin
reaching down 
to the curve of her breasts
covering what he had only seen
touched
tasted
in dreams…
but this
this was real
she was real
and she held out her hand to him

"Do I please you?"
her voice caressed the words
for she knew
the power of her beauty
she must have seen the answer
there in his eyes 
for she moved forward
ever so slightly
“Come…come to me, my love…”

He was there
in an instant
his arms around her
he was there
before the lilting cadence of her last word
had a chance to fade away

She smiled,
once again a little shy
She reached up to him
letting him melt into her kiss
as she slowly drew him down

There
surrounded by the strewn petals
on the floor of their home
in the bed of his heart
he claimed her
as his own...
his flower
his rose
amidst the fallen petals...
he heard her sigh

Eileen Manassian Ghali
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