Ode to a Tear Droplet
Do You Want to Start, or Shall I?Do you want to start
or shall I?
After all,
there is that twinkle
not in your eye
but in the reflection from the moon
shining on that part of you
that is so attractive to me...
My hair, you ask,
through which you ran your fingers
when first we met
and told me how much
you loved the glistening of the sheen,
the locks, the silken curls
like none others you have ever seen?
Ahh, no, it's not the hair
in all its splendor
that has so much attracted me to you
though moonbeams did do tango
dances with the tresses traipsing
through the whispering zephyrs of the night.
Perhaps my blushing cheeks so radiant
that sunshine still imbues night's atmosphere
with latent shafts that pierce the dark of night
as lightning flashes flush their futile flight
from there to here, a brilliant burst
Aurora's breath breathed on a rainbow pallette
plush with rushing reds and crimsons
orange, yellows, greens, and blue
and royal indigo through purple's hue.
Ahh, no, no, not the cheeks although
by blushing they do so oft attest their own
confessional that they have witnessed
all our sins of thoughts undone
and deeds with one remembered
under cover in the shadow of dark night
beneath the covers daylight's afternoon delight.
It must be then my ruby lips
that beckon you
when partly open
whisper oft your precious name
that only I can hear through all the voices
answering through raucous din at party time
or in those moments that my heart rejoices
as we lie in close embrace face to face
all through those silent nights.
Oh, no, it's not the lips
although a valid case there is,
for they do shine with luminance
and when they do not form such words
that bring your passion's verse to life
with sounds of comfort, soothing love,
they quietly lie silently inviting.
Oh, not the ears, nor nape nor neck
is there that shines as you describe
that is so drawn to you,
nor any other part of me
if not the eyes, the cheeks, nor anxious lips...
then what for all the rest is all the same
on any one of different name?
I weep to think it may be more
than arm or leg or lengthy thigh
that sends a twinkle to your eye.
I know it now, for as you weep
I see what sparkles bright, intense,
what stops my heart, or makes it leap
with wild anticipation.
It is the trickling tear that flows
one orphaned droplet
urged by unrelenting joy
expressed without restraint
such happiness as children
with a Christmas toy
or
sorrow that inflicts that stream
of flowing tears that slowly starts
with that one drop
and drowns the spirit of the soul
whose sparkle scintillates
as if to wash away
what grieving moments
left there are to bleed
as rivers through their summer bed
romantic thoughts left in your head.
What then is so attractive in that glinting drop?
The Honesty of your emotion, good or bad
sensitivity, happy, sad, gloomy, glad
that urges me to hold and comfort you
not because of what you feel
but the fact you DO
in what creates
essential YOU.
Poetry by NotaDeadPoet
Read 434 times
Written on 2007-02-22 at 21:49
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