Folklore Love

oh! my dear lover
have you ever
imagined us
in a different time
or continuum of space
perhaps there would be
no need to contemplate
the confines of infinityor what you mean to me
in this cosmic voyage
of our magically
heartfelt fluctuations
of reminiscent situations

which makes us
fall in love with
each other more
with each passage of time…

as the days go by
I find our hearts
entwine, blending
like the rare ingredients
of the finest wine
the tantalizing taste
of every passionate
kiss upon our lips
invites fellowship of
our tongue and cheek

each valley and peak
of our bodies rise
splashing high tides
amidst the sunrise…

you lie next to
the sweetness
of my skin and
the desires
of your manhood
seeks me for sin

and you ravage me
as one would a Harlot
you engrave my flesh
with a Letter of Scarlett…

Oh! dear lover
yearn for me as Poe
for his beautiful,
beautiful Anabel Lee

but tonight do not
write about me as
Neruda’s saddest line

No Pablo! this night
you shall write me as
a starry beauty walking
in Lord Byron’s time…

Oh! my dear lover
Barrett me in your
Browning’s Love
how many ways
to think of…
count thy ways
how you love me
call me Elizabeth
if it suites thee

but do not drink
from the poison cup
of which the poor
Montague believed
his bride Juliet sup

let our tune of love
play ever as sweet
as a Mozart melody
while you paint me
with Mona’s famous
da Vinci’s smile
like Chaucer’s tale
our story last a while…

yet does a rose called
by any other name
smell just as sweetly
or does it stench of
death completely

shall we ask two
power lovers forlorn
her Egyptian crown
of jewels, his Greek
crown was of thorn…

shall you govern me
as Anthony his coy
Cleopatra Queen or
will you covet me
like God’s King David
whenever Bathsheba
he spied and had seen

when she bared
her beauteous soul
without even knowing
she had pleased
the King, the one man
who would do
and did everything

to secure her hand
even sacrificing her
unsuspecting man…

Alas! there is
no need for you
my dear lover
to be cruel or kill
for I am willing
to be your Lucille
strum me gently like
the King BB and
my Picasso frame
I will reveal to thee…

from you my dear lover
there are no secrets
in my garden…

you are the caretaker
who reaps the harvest
who cultivates my need
when planting your seed

your love showers me
suddenly I thirst no more
my desires are quenched
by your seas loving shore…

my dear lover
I transform
I become Leda
and you become
The Swan

Oh! my dear lover
Beware!…
I am a she pirate
reversing the
serene Mermaid’s
ensnaring song…

beguiling, bewitching
fantasies of ancient
truths some fairy tales
of literary perils
and much more
transcend us in time
through ancient folklore…

oh! my dear lover
have you ever
imagined us
in a different time
or continuum of space
perhaps there would be
no need to contemplate
the confines of infinity

or what you mean to me
in this cosmic voyage
of our magically
heartfelt fluctuations
of reminiscent situations

which makes us
fall in love with
each other more
with each passage of time.

The End

Sublime Poetess
© 2012

Advertisements

~ by Le Sublime Poétesse on July 3, 2012.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

 
%d bloggers like this: