Saturday, 19 April 2008


The waves-

They move,
Sensuously awakened.
A touch soft,
A murmur delightful.

The warm embrace,
And the sudden arousal-
The need,
And the edge of passion.

A crescendo-
It rose, just to subside.
And rise again,
Larger than life-

And then,
To break off-

Into a million little pearl drops.

Satiated calm-
An aftermath.

Yet the calm never prevails,
Does it?

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