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
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