A nubile nymph or a beauty
care is absent.
Dusky skin, blunt chin,
masculine nose
And the very queering lips are
well present.
Yet to my heart her every part
is piquant.
In her is there no aesthetic
or romantic sense.
Reticence, reservedness and
timidity,
With coyness to the core, are
there in evidence.
Yet she is so seductive to my
every sense.
She acknowledges but refuses
to requite.
Passion smoulders, which her
blush betrays.
An earthen pot with water in,
that the dampness
Betrays. She is my ‘Cape of Good Hope’.
A hard nut and an elusive fish
is the stuff.
A taciturn woman, with no
semblance of proof.
To admit or to exit is her
bewilderment.
Nevertheless, towards her I go
vehement.
I fell in love with her for
her core and soul,
That led me to love her crust
and profile.
I relish and cherish her for
her inner fire.
As she eludes in fear I pursue
in vigour.
Answered or not, one prays
with hope.
Ushered or not I love her with
heat.
Maybe she is less to others
but to me much.
So much is there in her that
my heart beats fast.
Her every part is a tonic to
me because
That every part derives juice
from beneath.
A flame takes intensity from
its contents.
It is her contents that make
her amorous.
“A thing of beauty is a joy
for ever”
To think of her in bounty is
my fervour.
11.09.2000
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