Transition Girl

Why transition girl?... Best answered by a quote from the Iliad....."The soul was not made to dwell in a thing; and when forced to it, there is no part of that soul but suffers violence."

Friday, February 25, 2011

something sumptuous

Two blogs in one week. I must be restless.

It's been a while since I shared some poetry so here's a piece I wrote a while ago, which I did use in the first novel, Transition Girl. I was reminded of it this morning when I woke up from an evening of strange dreams. I know, I have weird dreams all the time and I should be highlighting when that is not the case (given the latter is much rarer)! I'm sure the dreams were triggered by the consumption of a particularly moist chocolate and beetroot flourless slice, something sumptuous to inspire my meandering mind.

Anyway, here's the poem:

You haunted me again last night
in a night of weary sleep.
Those steel eyes taunted me to fight
through a game of hide and seek.

The sensation of stroking finger tips.
I feel the contours of sweat soaked skin.
The essence of erotic, soft pale lips.
I idolise this state I’m in.

Blissfully bewitched - mesmerised.
Savour the taste of silky smooth flesh.
Rapturous oblivion - tantalised.
Aroused, intrigued and inflamed by one breath.

Ravished beyond intoxication.
A sensuous seduction. Deliciously sweet.
A slave helpless to her lustful master.
The strong against the meek.

As for the dream last night that reminded me of this poem, it was more intimate than erotic, and I am not sharing all the details. Suffice to say, if you were to see a pair of large flip flops on your front porch, you would be bound to dream of feet too. Two pairs of feet dangling off a pier by the sea on a glorious summer evening, water reflecting some nearby lights, the sound of waves lapping the shore and contented conversation. Bliss.


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