Short Lissom Poems

I’m  no longer lissom
And I'm no longer thin
I can see the growth
Of my second chin
But i check the mirror every morning
Hoping to avoid the despair
Of discovering my head has started
Growing through my hair....

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As of a chrysalis

the beneficent breakage

exfoliation

emergence from

isolationism

into a mosaic of group dynamics

a centring of regard

a new diagnosis

a lissom beginning

departing an empty goblet

full of peppermint concern


sbaquie  2000...

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There was virile voyager called Stanley,
with sucking lips he could blaze cold galley.
In journey from top downward
his machismo got devoured,
he lost winding way in lissom valley. 

May 24, 2019
Syllable count : 10/10/7/7/10
Checked on howmanysyllables.com...

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I have a favourite type of girl,
But it’s not like I am facile
Nothing wrong with preferences
I just like my girls to be gracile

Sinuous and willowy 
I don’t look for a pretty face
But they should have about them
Some elegance and grace

It takes the like of Nimble Kimble
Or the lovely Lithe Blythe
The aptly named Bendy Wendy
Or Lissom Blossom to feast my eyes...

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Silence covers all with bold embrace
Her hands and fingers dance with lissom grace

At mesmerising patterns flowing sport
Tumult begins to fade from conscious thought

Bringing a taste of peaceful solitude
That often in our hectic lives eludes

Although the world of noise goes unperceived
The loss has never given cause for grief

With joyful heart embracing life to full
All other senses deafness over-rule...

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Dazzling, CHATOYANT mirrors... 
Capture my inner soul; entrance me 
Joyously allowing these INEFFABLE tears 

LISSOM, graceful being... 
Join me in this SEMPITERNAL moment 
Forever keep this CYNOSURE from fleeing

Web of perplexing GLAMOUR...
Unbind me from being so INGÉNUE 
Releasing me from my blushing DEMURE

Wonderful, MELLIFLUOUS fire... 
Become my PANACEA eternally
Freeing my desire

To be with you....

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Through curtains of sunlight 
I see sweet seas of sugar, young 
And lissom as a winsome lass 
Dancing. I smell the perfume of the night, 
Worn as a wheeze upon a dying lung. 
Youth is a phase we pass 
Reluctantly in the history of these 
Shores. That girl is going to rear 
Children who will move for the breeze 
Water their eyes with tear. 
Let the green stalks dance now 
Sugar is reaped with fire here. 
Mutabaruka alone at the canoe bow, 
No other captain is there....

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Autumn, the burnish of her hair
  Trapped devil flecks of pitchfork red,
Cascading shades of setting suns
  Billowing on the satin bed.
Lithe puma she stretches,
  Lissom flesh as fluid milk,
In the scarlet of her parting lips,
  In the rust motes of her eyes,
In the pallor of her cherished skin,
  Sex and sweetness symbolise.
Red as the bleed of Shepard clouds
  Burning the twilight fields,
Autumn, the burnish of her hair,
  Beauty, her yield of yields....

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Lissom as a light wing,
that the sky caresses,
she is a clear soul
that came from heaven,
A lively rose that
announces spring...
passes by me
 as an angel on earth
that promises all dreams
to my hopeful heart..
Her look is an invitation
that makes me dream,
   She is synonymous of beauty
and astonishment...She is my bliss
and my hallucination
Sun of my life...
She is flash of poetry
from Vinicius' poems...
She always compels me  tô say
je t'aime , I love you... !...

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Watch as lissom snowflakes rappel the air,
                                   From afar alike yet never the same,
                                On sojourns quiet or with much fanfare,
                             A passage lonesome or lit with love’s flame.
                     Lasting place ‘tween clouds and plains none can claim,
                            From the sky they came of low or high birth,
                                  In a heartbeat to melt into the earth....

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