Pleasure is like a ruthless moneylender,
Scheming and calculating.
It invites you with a smile
And cast its eternal spell on you
With the memories
It leaves behind
With a vengeance.
Hence you long for
Piping hot tea, dark rum,
Supple skin, wet lips…
On sultry afternoons
And Sunday evenings.
4 comments:
Pleasure is like a wayside vendor,
Vigorously hawking his wares.
I touch, I smell, I hold them for a while
Pennies jingle in my pocket
I ponder,pay for the little piece
And walk away as we wave goodbyes at each other.
Pleasure is sometimes,like the mannequins
Behind the glass
I, the eternal window shopper,
Gaze at them with longing -
Just for a while -
And shrug and walk away, content,
Grateful that I could see, I could love
Even those I do not want to own.
The post and Balan's comment in verse
confused me wee bit.
Nevertheless, I could strike a chord with the idea, of walking away with pleasure from ones that I do not want to own".
pleasure is destiny's tool to discipline the mere mortals.. tempt and then deny
Balan Sir: The more I read your comment in verse the more I’m aware of the light years that lie in the midst of us.
AK: Confused? One is my version and the other is his, you may have a different one to offer.
Kalpana: I agree, Kalpana. The earlier one realizes it, the better, isn’t it?
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