With No Hint of An End
These words may have no beginning,
but they bounce
and echo loud, around the labyrinths
of the self-same shell
they were first each imprisoned in ..
Fine words they are too
and when whispered soft, might be
mistaken for the sea,
or the wind, as it mouths and teases
her wild golden,
finger-combed hair, brushed back,
slightly damp and still salty ..
My lady once lived for such poetry
yet she would lay there
still and barely breathing just in case
the spell somehow, got broken ..
Then upon waking, she would look up
and see the world
through a perfect Ken Simm painting ..
Yes, it was then she felt a kiss,
south of the nape her neck did crave
and he, also thirsted for ..
Ache gentle he begged, against these
delicious downward thrusts
and be light as green lacewings wings
lost on clouds passing us by ..
And like that, they remain to this day,
safe in the cove of
their own little harbour, where words
such as these, tend to go
around and around, with not one hint
of a beginning, no signs of a
middle nor trace of an imminent end even ..
This is so tender
Favorite part is how you ended it
“with not one hint
of a beginning, no signs of a
middle nor trace of an imminent end even”
“These words may have no beginning”… they have no end either… Enchanting, captivating, breathtaking… passionate as only how passion should be. this is a masterpiece of poetry and love, though the reader smiles as they read, yet it pulls a tender tear from the heart, a tear of love. Mr. Ken would be joyous reading this. beyond gorgeous….
Beautiful work.
Beautifully penned, Neville. A very delicate write my friend. Excellent work.. Appreciate you.
Damian
After reading the comments above, what could I possibly say? Hopefully, and it’s not just my wishful thinking it is the end part that is “real”. But that middle should be “real” as well. Damn Neville, your poem makes the reader (me) hope it is all “real” (and yes, even the fantasy parts!!) The sum of all these parts is: I loved reading your poem, Neville!!!!!!!!!
Curt