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By uche
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31 July 2007 |
Glow
of candle
like watered milk, flickering;
moths,
motley-hued and
powder-winged, fluttering;
heart
strung, pulsating,
like a frenzied song;
tossing
on the bed
is the feel of rock on bare back
I wait
for the cognac of your tongue
your fingers as fire in my blood
endlessly,
I wait.
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Written by hutmaster (134 comments posted) 1st August 2007 | Nice work, Uche and a lovely title. There's a restlessness in this picked up adeptly in your imagery, ie candles and moths. The staccato rhythm in short bursts of sensation and observation add to what I sense is a somewhat claustrophobic feel within this. A neat and well wrought piece.
hm |
Written by Phil (6675 comments posted) 1st August 2007 | I seem to be following Hutmaster up the list - and I can't disagree with what he's said - certainly couldn't put it better - so:
ditto
Phil. |
Written by Livinginanattic (456 comments posted) 1st August 2007 | A good poem with a series of images involving various senses. Very effective.
Ben | thanks
Written by uche (44 comments posted) 6th August 2007 | dear pals
thanks for the compliments |
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