she had only asked him to come in for a cup of hot strong coffee
an innocent gesture in her mind maybe an interesting exchange
of thoughts on philosophical matters like love death and existence
yet once they had smoked a first cigarette the smoke clouds parted
like sea waters of Yam Suph in the form of spiritual enlightenment
candles flickered and incense filled the room with sandalwood and musk
serenity and pheromones diffused hardship fear loneliness and inhibition
passionate silence of words merged with quivering lips in fervorous action
and the pulse of their hearts raced in crescendo surely missing a few beats
velvet skin like cinnamon bark feverishly exposed unlimited desire
an immaculate conception of wisdom arose from instantaneous Karma
and twenty years later they still need no picture guide on how to make love
"the clouds parted like the pursed lips of desire" and that meant the world
... she had nothing much to give as she searched her pockets for gratitude, selfless gifts had made her journey so much easier than she could have ever longed for, invaluable presents from a passionate heart and she looked at the inscription in the ageing tree of her childhood an arrow of love on the cinnamon bark of tomorrow that always looked to become a distant past, a couple of bows tied around the trunk, now faded and torn beyond recognition, all that was left was words of kindness, a sincere apology and farewell to becoming an aspiration beyond her wildest dreams ...
my tree of kind life
planted roots of compassion
you gave me your wings
...is the one which speaks to me at the time
written with heart blood and passion
straight from a questioning soul
cinnamon bark and a core full of feeling
lavender fragrance thistles and roses
moon spoons and day light
a drop of defeat and fears from the nib
quill of compassion and meaning
fountain of pleasure and joy
when I write I am one with myself
critical emotive rational and honest
demons contained and spirit contained
when I do not express myself on pages
I feel empty and void lost and unbalanced
like a tree with no roots and no seeds
if a reader gains a bit from my writing
that is a bonus and extra reward
an artwork in progress and script
I am my poems and they shelter me
every single one the best I can do
any time any place and enough
13th June 2020
moist cinnamon bark
infused fragrance levitates -
monsoon descends time
rice fields lie flooded
draft windswept change into roots -
rise to the challenge
tea leaves take shelter
swell burgeoning impatience -
cusp spring’s prophesies
seasons scent chances
tease taste bud’s fluid advance -
crow scares wet footing
22th May 2020
Olive’s Cinnamon Bark
It took her some while to sense the meaning of feeling good in her skin
Her mirror her prism her mosaic glass and the mist on the crystal of time
At first it had appeared to project a tarnished reflection of yesteryear’s
Cinnamon Bark of Youth
A silver hair dropping its flair onto laughter lines and sorrow grooves
The imager an hour glass of pleaded messages to tempt with gloss and mask
To stifle the miracle silken touch with unkind uncalled for varnished perplexion’s
Olive Shine of Middle Age
Still a child at heart tanned by weather of challenges growth blissfully wild
Perception perspective’s inclusion recovered beauty never lost but adorned
With garnished collection of scent’s senses and unspoken images to become
Acorns of Seniority
27 March 2018
From cinnamon bark
fresh amber of ocean’s scent
conveys musk’s resin
Your coast perfuses my shore
A gem wet and wild again
25th June 2017
written for contest:
'My Lover's Scent'
Universal Dialogue
Tears from fears to cheers
‘you are the moonlight
and cinnamon bark
incense and citrus peel
in your intimate places.’
(Tai)
‘I am simply a reflection
of your sun in me my places
are your places
the earth and your soil
is spinning caressing
touching fire and water
inside and out and
in between the stars
thank you Sun-God
for shining your light
and her light into
my heart and my soul’
(Kai)
Moonlight and sunlight
and two dedicated followers
of Taikaiweanism reaching
for the stars and beyond
and still going strong
28th July 2016
Three Stanzas - Three Only
sponsored by 'Broken Wings'
The wind is crisp when clouds cover the
sun, what passes for warm when clouds
disappear.
Great oak trees, maple and elm, in full
bare-branched display, before the bud.
Red norway pine, just outside my window,
enrobed in rich, cinnamon bark,
still smiles with long green needles,
bristling with resin-dipped cones.
A great fascination I pursue, binoculars in
tow, discovering many-generational
squirrel nests, high in the trees; twigs,
paper refuse, any and all acquired detritus,
salvaged to create beautiful sanctuaries, to
call home-
I'm
Truly
Envious
04/26/14
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