His presence uncovered itself.
It was all in the way
He closed the door,
All in the way his
Soft eyes penetrated me.
Poetry, was dripping from his lips.
I tasted and knew that it was good,
So I began to feel every line
Of his purple poems.
His smile, his teasing gestures,
Performed his purple adjectives on me.
My eardrums vibrated wildly as they
Spoon fed to my soul,
Every vowel that felled
From the meat of his tongue.
His presence was purple.
In the midst of loving me,
He gathered me as one who gathers
Lavender petals from the doorstep,
After a soft rainfall.
His lips upon me, were nothing more
Than the anxious feet of summer,
Hopping all over my body.
Moist purples all over my, my...oh my.
His pen dripped with purple,
He was ready to write on me and
I was ready to experience every line.
His pen pointed towards heaven.
That's where he took me, after
The placing of his poetry.
His teasing stanzas
Brought forth a song in me,
That had very few words;
Mainly, the humming testimony of his goodness.
The rhythm of his meter was immeasurable.
Each swelling thrust became a free verse as the
Rules began to break under our intensity.
When the last rule broke,
All restrictions vanished,
But then,
His every other line began to rhyme until
All of my lines were curved and locked,
Into his powerful rhythmic rhymes.
Our metaphors clashed head on,
Under the title...'Immense Pleasure',
Then felled gently onto linen paper
To reflect on yet,
Another moment of love...
Beholding his purple poems.
Copyright © 2002 by Joyce Rogers
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Joyce Rogers