Reflection of a whisper

Love's morning sea glitters, throbbing with waves of heartbeats

Siren arms transmit her, maelstrom currents and entreats

A breeze may begin in a soft kiss' whisper, the caress of the breath of a smile

But betrayal builds in a gale to the roaring fury of a hurricane's rail,

leaving one marooned on a deserted isle

Infatuation's sun dawns on dunes of sandy breasts and thighs.

Lacrimal rains pour over rocky terrain's shore, as hope closes its eyes.

Dried sands crumble, dream castles tumble

a broom of water sweeps away salty words

with teeth of wind, bliss did rescind

the mirrored smoke of Harpies and phoenix birds

Here fire born of water, to water will return,

over ocean and sky its reflection will continue to burn

Moonbeams heart strings pulls passion's tidal blanket over a sea with no eyes

Vision only by dreams, it has no sense, it seems, of where it lies

Author's Note

double meaning in words makes a difference

Reviews

[Poetic Beauty]

Such a beautiful scene and then it is all washed away. Hope dreams and love

[Soren]

Thanks so much for the read and review it is most appreciated.

[Poetic Beauty]

You are welcome

[Betty Hermelee]

Nothing like being marooned on a desert island with someone who gives love, passion, like the waves crashing to the shore, the gales, heighten the sensuality…..then a calm, soft kiss… before the next gale force winds, the fire, the thunderous call to a love tryst….”with the teeth of wind”…..could this be a dream? “Heart strings pull passion”…..lovely metaphors from the sea to a woman’ s body….. vivid images of wind, gales , sandy dunes, breasts, all commingle together….
Warmly, B.

[Soren]

Thank you Betty for the read and most kind comments they are most appreciated.

[Betty Hermelee]

You’re very welcome Soren
Warmly, B

[John the Baptist]

Liked the pairing of the emotional with the nautical in this one. Like Jacob, I was drawn to the dunes of the sandy breasts and thighs. Old guys never give up.

[Soren]

Thanks John I appreciate the review. Looking at dunes they often seem to be breasts and thighs but like a mirage when you get close they don't look so good.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

I feel on that island right now...and can only wish the phoenix will allow me to rise again...my poetry feels dead at the moment. It lies, unmoving and not moving readers...
Metaphoric eyes staring into nothing.
I love this poems and want to touch those sandy breasts and thighs...even if it is just physical for a five minute respit.
j.

[Soren]

Jacob your poems are not dead! I deeply value many that you write and many have inspired me in my writing. I used to teach at a university and it was only many years latter that I found how past words had lead some to choose careers of fame and importance. I too think of how I was influenced in important life choices by those that never knew. I fall into slumps and at times write junk but see this as only clearing out the slag to refine pure gold. Keep the writing going if no one else I value it deeply.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

appreciate that, Soren.