The everyday lover's 'rhetoric'

Another prompt by a colleague, and another attempt at writing something. The word this time was 'rhetoric'. Vague, ambiguous and very intangible, I initially struggled with how I could interpret it. And then I wondered - rhetoric is used so often in love, in courtship, in trying to impress and in trying to woo. Every lover has rhetoric and I wrote about this everyday lover's rhetoric.

The everyday lover’s rhetoric

The sun gets belittled with just a glance,

The moon finds nowhere to hide in shame,

The flowers seem devoid of their colour.

As the lover hand picks his praises,

And the lady finds her rose-tinted pedestal,

As nature transfers its glory to the whispers they exchange.

Adoration, persuasion, flattery, worship,

Blindfolds, apprehensions, hopes, dreams,

Wishes like whiffs of perfume.

Days of haze, eyes glazed with illusions,

Fantasies and fairytales seeping through drop by drop,

Promises pressed into clay by jittery hands.

The words have done their part

The verses have played the allurer

And they flutter forth, heart to heart, hope to hope.

- Haem Roy

20th Sep 2014.

Midnight

A little background: A colleague and I decided we needed a bit of creative exercise to get through the rest of the day. Around 3 in the afternoon, we came up with one word - midnight - and both of us had half an hour to come up with a verse around it.

Below is what I wrote.

Midnight

Short strokes painted across untiring eyes,

Engulfing a calm,

A scenery that knows no shades.

Black is black and all is dark.

She walks down the ascending road,

Piercing the silence with sharp heels,

Smoke filled in her mind,

Her breath clear as the night.

Crinkled memories of the path she walks,

Muffled voices behind curtains closed hours ago,

Stories swept under the carpets of quiet,

Don’t ask, don’t tell, just stack the mind.

Both hands entwine, the wind chimes,

The streets are hers now.

Seducing the suns away from their skies,

They nicknamed her ‘Midnight’.

- © Haem Roy

May 2014.

The poetry of abandon

Her breath moved in a lilting rhythm,

Her skin jumped up to reach out to his touch,

Goosebumps that spread to her beating heart.

He didn't need to see her to revere. 

She didn't need to touch him to feel.

His fingers like satin, wrapped around her,

The world was bolted out,

The covers were out in the open.

His eyes covered her in silky glory,

She was the queen of the world they lived in.

They were discoverers - every moment a quest,

They found the hidden art in seduction,

Never more than an inch away from breathlessness.

Her curves were now his altar,

His warm breath was her drug.

Levitating above the world they lived in,

Creating pure poetry with their bodies,

Sculpting pleasure into their memories.

Wild abandon seeped in their senses,

Attachments found no space to survive.

- © Haem Roy

8th March, 2014.