The hint of mint,
on her lips, had an offer
to which my tongue,
quickly said 'yes'
The scent
of an unknown flower
on her flowing hair,
took me from there,
to the mountain *****
in my mindscape,
beside which
I had painted,
her picture to make it,
perfect, against
gentle foaming light.
The moment was
tender, pulsating,
her hands were,
creepers coiling around
my trunk, in a flurry,
not to swoon, soon.
Isn't it the moment,
described always
by  poets, all through
ages, as the feeling of
wafting above
the fluffy clouds?

But hey, I never
thought, I could be
swayed so easily,
like this: made
of sterner stuff,
could withstand
the onslaught of
such moments,
I thought of myself.

*But, eyes don't see,
ears can't hear,
nose looses its
sense of smell,
I feel a thrill beyond,
the prompting
of five senses,
to get in to the
flow of the nature's
immense will
to find the reason,
of my existence,
and vanquish,
the fear of all fears,
and be immortal,
liberate both of us,
from the mortal coil,
with the oracular,
power love fills,
in our beings
in such moments.