I held her in my gaze on the iron rail of summer noon.
This moment of humid silence wetting her heat burn cheeks
I knew would melt pretty soon.
Like moisture droplets on her lips and her palm’s sweat
This heavenly moment would retreat
With its phantoms of fancy it’s never too late!
Then sobered and in saner head
We would find our place under the banyan’s cool shade.
Feb 10, 2014
Feb 10, 2014 at 2:19 AM UTC
I held her in my gaze on the iron rail of summer noon.
This moment of humid silence wetting her heat burn cheeks
I knew would melt pretty soon.
Like moisture droplets on her lips and her palm’s sweat
This heavenly moment would retreat
With its phantoms of fancy it’s never too late!
Then sobered and in saner head
We would find our place under the banyan’s cool shade.
Request permission to use this poem