Blossoms of orange scent the ink dark night,
Slip sweet as a lover through my window,
a languid kiss of spring and sugar.
Oh, how I have ached for this hour.
Slip, my sweet, as a lover through my window:
Your hands, your breath, your flesh
Oh, how I have ached for this hour.
My need, bare as a flower in the pale light.
Your hands, your breath, your flesh
I unfurl beneath each honeyed caress
My need, bare. A flower in the pale light
As blossoms of orange scent the ink dark night
Notes
So I noticed how long it has been since I have written any poetry and I was displeased with myself. I thought to take a line rattling in my head an use a poetic form to help me expand it. Pantoums are not especially easy so this might be not be the best route toward encouraging me to write again. What I love about pantoums is the repetition and the breathing of new meaning into the lines with each stanza.
I will probably work on this some more at another time as I am not entirely thrilled with this first foray back into poetic form.
