by Alan Abrams
Tuesday, December 07, 2010
Rated "PG13" by the Author.
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was that a smile upon her lips,
that stranger I just crossed—
who transfixed me with the rhythm of her hips—
does she look back?
likely not, but what she leaves behind
is her scent
for me—alone—to find.
thus I pass into her world,
where trace of rose and jasmine swirl
and for this sweet moment I possess her—
as surly as we lay, legs entwined—
til on the breeze her fragrance dissipates—
and I can no more hold her in my mind
than detain her in my arms.
at last I turn—too late—
she is gone, like a cloud on the wind.
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|Reviewed by Axilea MU
|As I was reading this poem, I thought of all the different links and connections we need to feel close to someone. Our senses are the trigger for so many reactions, but they can also deceive us. And memory? Is it reliable? Just thinking out loud. Nicely written, Alan.
|Reviewed by Paul Judges
|Well done !|
|Reviewed by La Belle Rouge Poetess Of The Heart
|Stunning poetry, you capture the moment and the magic spell of a woman's aura.|
|Reviewed by Douglas Bentley
|Pretty sweet - like that last stanza.
|Reviewed by Joel Sattler