Love in a rocking chair
I sit here in my rocking chair
And remember the times
When my arms clasped you close
Body straining against body
I sit here rocking
Through thick and thin
In sickness and health
In fascination need and longing
I remember clawing
I sit here rocking
All the nights of tangled limbs
Hesitant caresses urgent hands
Your skin silk in moonlight
My legs wrapped around you
I sit here rocking
Toothless we are and wrinkled
Aches and pains and aging
But it was only yesterday
Those nights of unbridled lust
I sit here rocking
Cheers!
Post script: This poem is dedicated to the soon to be emperor of the universe, in blatant toadying so I will be declared Court Poetess.
12 Comments:
What a touching poem. Bravo, Lali.
so u are a poet too !!
vivek
Beautiful- I can see us all getting there sooner or later:)
What a poem. This is why I love this blog. You take my breath away. Note to Rimi- Breathe and breath mean different things.
Sincerely,
Secret admirer #2
Ash- Hmm. I was expecting quibbles at scansion at the least. Thanks.
Vivek- I plead mistaken identity, milord, I've got an alibi too.
Dipali- Yes, we all get there sooner or later, but let's be drawn there screaming and kicking, no? Why give in? It is all in the mind anyhow.
Anon- Do get a name. And stop nitpicking at the princess. You don't get brownie points for it.
Your skin silk in moonlight Is a poignant line. Visual tactile and lasting memories evoked beautifully. Deftly done, Lali.
Sincerely,
Secret admirer
(No name rank or serial number)
Anon- Thanks, but name rank and serial number, please.
I saw it the other day, but, um, *cough* it didn't um, *cough*, register. Been a little trussed up for time. Read it today, and wow! Thank ye. Thank ye! Thou shall forever and always remain the court poetess.
C
Emperor mine,
Yet this thy praise cannot be so thy praise,
To tie up envy evermore enlarg'd:
If some suspect of ill mask'd not thy show,
Then thou alone kingdoms of heart shouldst owe.
Bard or moi, same difference.
very nice poem... i liked it very much
Ash7- Thank you.
This poem hurt. It pulls no punches. Age memory tricks and recall. Sharp and true.
Johnnie
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