Language Of Poetry

There is a warm mystery 
In the way he talks to her
She reads him in time's suspense
Embracing his lines of love....like
Smoky whisper of vetiver on skin

She aches for the rush of the warmth of his breath
Letting love lean into her
Letting him hold her soul
Letting the ink draw words out..

When the soul lusts with sensations of a poem
Letters become art
A scented inscription spells
Waiting for imagination to create reality

Illumination of candor...



#free verse

108 thoughts on “Language Of Poetry

  1. A beautiful birthing story. We listen, absorb, digest and then create pieces that capture moments we want to keep, forever. Spectacular lines, Y.

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      1. Yes, it is… I love this, so very much. Maybe because I am in love with words and how people weave them so beautifully. You’re welcome, Y.

        Liked by 1 person

  2. If that’s free verse I’d happily pay for it – my not very good joke. But seriously brilliant writing, Lady Yasmin. ‘…Letters become art, A scented inscription spells…’ A whole story in seven words ~ George

    Liked by 1 person

  3. I really love the imagery you used in this wonderful piece. Though I would love to see a deeper (longer poem perhaps?) to see how things would go. I would love to read more of the descriptive images that stand as a symbol of not only human warmth, but also humane love. Consider me as a new follower!

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Wow! Your lines are very bold, and there’s a hidden sense of wildness within every line. It’s amazing. I think the free verse form allows the poem to step beyond just a regular creative writing process to a bolder expression of passion and of the heart. Keep up the good work!

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