It’s an oven of a room
on a January morning
and barren branches, are creaking
their disquiet
leaning, to scrape at those
looming windows
awash, with dew drops of fate
we’re both awake, early
randomly
strange for a working Monday
Tiger’s hour, absurd
I need to get up soon
and you, a few hours later
I’m thinking maybe, I seize
this opportunity
to do something romantic
spontaneously memorable
arrange a hurried breakfast in bed
or maybe, we grab a coffee
at your favourite
and drive to work, together
for a change
I’m wide awake, calculating
and you’ve got every inch
of you
draped all over me, weight
of life’s sweet scent
your head, nuzzling into my chest
and pressing deep, like
you’re trying to burrow your way
to those anchoring depths
of my heart
I choose, hurriedly – foolishly
stop thinking
and let my fingers, emote
soundless whispers
each vertebrae of your spine
I traverse, has your skin
reddening and scorching
my fingertips
love’s piano keys, pulsating
at this silky, moment
of delectably irresistible sensuality
a bird arrives to serenade us
we’re both, city rats
born-n-bred
turning our heads
we stare blankly, clueless
as to what breed it may be
merely noting
its song is tepid, mellow even
matching our tranquillity, melodically
you blurrily notice its blue feathers
deep blue, almost black
an ominous shade
while being framed by Aurora’s
blazing violet splendour.
‘Should we, just play hooky?’ you tease
‘Feels like a great day for breaking rules.’
Synchronicity of our thoughts
making me smile
I sighed, all my workload tittering
upon my eyelashes
and guiltily kissed your forehead
ruffled bed hair, clinging to my lips
surrendering to life’s demands
we simply, stayed wrapped in each other
a while longer
before you forced me to lift you aside
and I grudgingly
foolishly, got out of our entwined embrace
knowing, even in those brief seconds
I would regret this choice, my whole life.
Dear warmth
I doubt you would even recognise me
since it has been that long
I write these words, on a cold
June morning
I’m up again, at that ungodly hour
and there is a silhouette, I appreciate
by my side
but yet, that weighty feel you tattooed
on my chest, simply
aches
to have that choice back
I imagine what that day
could have gone-on to become
and maybe, it would still be you
I’d have wrapped around me
instead of this weightless, duvet
I know, these words are a betrayal
to the one dreaming away, beside me
but you see, my dear
truth be told, it was always you
I should have chosen, above everything
but I was young, I didn’t know
I had found, my life’s
treasure
at such a young age.
What I would do
to feel your weighty presence
upon me, once more
how tightly, I would wrap you
in these yearning arms
wherever you are, I hope
that person at your side
is not thinking of someone else
and betraying your trust
I hope, that you’re being loved
with that youthful
verve and devotion
I, no longer
have it in me to offer, anyone…
© L. B. Mek
February 2022
-
Author:
L. B. Mek (
Offline)
- Published: February 6th, 2023 03:16
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 41
- Users favorite of this poem: Fay Slimm., willowthewisp.
Comments9
I am so glad I got up early this mane and reached this page before anyone else .. I could not have bared it had anyone got here before me .. this is a masterpiece brother Mek and no kidding .. see I even added the g at the end of kiddin as a mark of my absolute respect ... any poet regardless of who they might be or think they might be would be proud to have 'Hour of your absent, weight' in their portfolio .. Neville
'I even added the g'
lmao!
what better statement of appreciation is there
than stating a scribble makes us spell perfectly
to insure we annunciate our effusive sincerity...
(thanks for my first chuckle of the day Hyung
really glad you enjoyed this one
one of my most personal scribbles
so it means a little more, thank you!)
Such an attention grabber this piece of poetic mastery dear L.B. - the time of regret poised so clearly after so many years is so very relatable in this honest gem of a write - no doubt about it I must have Hour of Your Absent Weight in my list of favourites.
such a wonderful flavour of life
to have honest exchanges with a Poet
you truly look up to
and then to have that same person, steadfastly
encourage and support your scribbled efforts..
I'm so humbled and grateful dear Fay, thank you!
so glad you enjoyed the read
its that season of romance
for us
who choose to champion love!
L.B. this one made me cry. I felt like I was reading my own story, my own emotions, my own thoughts, it was haunting. This is art, no more to be said.
indeed my friend
sadly, its far too relatable a tale for some of us
sorry if it made you recall
that which you wished to remain forgotten
thank you!
for your wonderful words of encouragement
sincerity's art is what we wannabe's aspire towards
I knew it ... I just knew it such great work my brother from Africa
Good work
lol
thank you! what wonderful enthusiasm
glad you enjoyed the read, dear Poet
Your comment about my work blew me away, well, ive never shared my work, ,,,,Then I read your masterpiece and OMG!! It's an honor to have you read my work .
lol
thank you! kind poet
glad you're having a warm welcome
to our wonderful MPS
you humble me with your generous words
the honor is mine, truly
The words flow so nicely .
A beautiful write Mek .. gentle sad yet beautiful love the mention of those birds ))
trust you to note the birds, dear Poet
glad you enjoyed the read
thank you!
for your wonderfully encouraging words
This poem has a beautiful afterglow of such sweet reminiscence that it leaves the reader basking in its warmth and tenderness. So lovingly written dear friend, so gratefully shared.
'beautiful afterglow of such sweet reminiscence'
this is just... well!
thank you! best line of poetry on this page
('draped, in our hues of regret'
lol
what a conceptualisation of hurt
such a poetic wording of comforting subtlety)
how insightfully kind, dear cherished Poet
I read and aspire to heed
Yes- all of the above.
But stay - no response, svp..
I think the others have said it all. My only contribution is that my true love has grown, and I could no longer take her weight. Really beautiful poem, thanks friend.
(oh is that sad? growing is a good thing
yet, too heavy is a burden we need to escape
still, better to have loved I think)
thanks for the personalised comment, dear poet
differing perspectives adds reference and layers
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.