Poem: Poetic Meals

Every morning, I am served hot poetic delicacies

Not the kind that stings the soft surface of the palate

But the ones that erect a monumental appetite

And create a never ending hunger for more poetry

It is not the colourful presentation of these amazing dishes

But it is the opulent flavours and audacious show of beauty

The poetic meal is not only a sacred ritual

It is an exotic dance with the flowing beauty of the spirit

All senses are aroused by the caressing hands of these exotic pearls

I am served love poems that undresses the body of my desires

And elevate me to the summit of my fantasies

The lavish lines paint a scene of an extraordinary romantic adventure

Pouring an avalanche of romantic themes in the bowl of my mind

I am left gasping for air as I struggle to hide my voluptuously erect thoughts

That want to transmute my simple life into an extraordinary romantic thriller

It is not the open window of the mind that gives me shivers

But the audacious nakedness of their beautiful bodies

And the extremely delicious taste of their nectar

©Kenneth Maswabi