Thursday, April 8, 2010

The Woman On My Window Sill



Every Morning,
As The Sun Takes it's morning coffee,
She Breathes In my ear,
"Wake up",She says,Blowing
Her minted air on my eyelids,
And I wake,puffy-eyed and ragged,
As she wanders off to the balcony,
I follow her,dragging my slippered feet,
and Put My hand on her shoulder,
She smiles a curious little smile,
Indulgence playing The clarinet
Ripples On her face.
She gently prises off the hand..

I freshen Up,and I come back to her,
She sits on a window-sill,
Legs bare,white,dangling,
She surveys me with appraisal,
She blows a gentle kiss at me,
and laughing,She slides away..
Horror-struck,I stare after her,
I dart to the Balcony,
I see her garlanded Head,
Wreath of Lillies and
Sashe of Petunias,
Strung around her womanly frame,
She sniffs,she Glides,
Ballerina's grace,from Flower-top
to tip,
a wink and a nod and a burning passion
She wafts The aroma at me,
I take in her scent of sandal
and Strawberries,
I taste the air On which
she leaves her trail..

She Vanishes among The
Four-leaved Clovers,
Misletoe brushes my hair,
My eyes kiss the portal she made,
and I make a short wish..
In My head,I hear her voice,
Sparkling,like a fountain in spring
And she says,I'll come again,
watch,and wait,
And in the meantime
My essence,I leave you to guard
The Dew On your marble Window-Sill..

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