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Tom E Cremin

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Member Since: Mar, 2008

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Ode to the cruellest of mistresses
by Tom E Cremin

Saturday, May 31, 2008
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Clouded mistress, obscured by shades of hazy grey,

Your beauty unseen, yet shining in my twisted mind.


I remember.


I remember scents of skin as pure as morning grass.

I remember textures of velvet akin to your alabaster skin, fading in the English sun.

I remember lips that quivered when pressed gently to mine,

Like the smallest leaf in the strongest winds,

Never falling, never failing, trembling yet clinging to life as to love.


I remember the tightness of your clench, gripping me on my waist and in my heart,

I remember a smile that lit a thousand fires to burn a thousand trees,

Trees regrown in the radiance of your eyes,

A glare fixed so tightly on one you desire.


I remember a beauty so fair my breath is wrenched from my lungs when I gaze upon it.

I remember a passion so unyielding that gargantuan mountains seem as miniscule pebbles

In the path to your whims and desires.

I remember a wisdom so great your tender years are belied by its depths.

I remember a hope so vast that I quaked in its wake and strived to fulfil it, always destined to fail but desired to succeed.


I remember. Always.


So, as I sit and stare at the storm clouds above,

Stagnant in the gales and gusts that should wrench them from my view.

Reaching out arms that are incapable of dispersing them, as distance and depth and determination defy me.


I remember these things and I smile to myself,

Ever knowing that nature is the cruellest of all mistresses.

But remembering  my mistress is fairer than all

And my desire rages on, greater than all.

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