Poetry

Kingsley Charles

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MELODIES OF A SWAIN

Rumbling skies, shattering hearts,

Raging tempests, falling beeches.

A veil of near-gloom cast

Over a rain-sodden earth.

Now is the reign of the elements.

March winds, May flowers,

June showers. July springs

Madness so sweet from

The bosom of a matted-haired stripling.

Heaven’s breath, a gust, seething

Like the howling of roving souls, strikes

Hot a forked heart.

A pleasurable sting, savouring sweet

Of nostalgia, as of Narcissus’ nectar.

Love-spume, like thick beer froth,

Rises atop the surging waters

Of my spirit.

Flaccid breasts, against my woozy

Head, brush, hard

Yet soft and comforting

As Sister Delilah’s laps

A flash of adrenaline sparks

Sophia proffers such glorious relief.

Upon this bed of rose shall

I, hence, recline, to wallow

In this mire of sweet ecstasy,

Waiting till the veiled bride

With the dazzling path

Converge in holy matrimony.

 

Kingsley Charles

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