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    Parker Owens
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Poetry posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Occasional Poetry - 18. Desire

em>The first line occurred to me out of the blue. I had no time to write, so I sent it to my good friend Tim Landon. We each worked out our own spin on it. This is mine.

O love that rides the cresting wave,

that cannot be resisted, save

I hide myself in reason's lair

from that insanity I crave.

 

O love whose rhythm fills the air,

I wait embarrassed on the stair

perchance I hear your step descend

and with me pass a moment there.

 

O love, the crystal stars portend

A moonlit smile; you call me friend.

And we an evening's pleasure take

To linger over coffee's end.

 

O love so thirsty naught will slake,

desire so deep with need I quake;

I revel in your lips' caress

and every other taste forsake.

 

O love, whose heat I now confess

has burned the soul you now possess;

so by desire and hope made brave,

to every touch I acquiesce.

em>All errors are my own. Thanks, Tim.
Copyright © 2017 Parker Owens; All Rights Reserved.
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Poetry posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Awesome, Parker. I loved the image at the beginning of the journey, sitting on the stair on the oft chance the object of his desire might descend and there would be a moment. By then end he attained his heart's desire, and I felt the rejoicing of it. Beautiful in form and substance... acquiesce is such a wonderful word to end it on... every word choice is superb... cheers... Gary....

Brilliant. A staircase is an intermediary space; it's neither up nor down. Poetically, it's the equivalent of bridge.

 

That the poet is waiting on the stair is an instant metaphor we all can relate to. Love descends like a star, to brush you, to take you with it, all the way to the one place you have been fearing to go.

 

The 'O love' repetition is heartbreaking, but the image of sharing coffee is domestic and hopeful. There is hope. This star of love sheds the brightest, warmest of light.

On 03/21/2016 01:29 PM, Headstall said:

Awesome, Parker. I loved the image at the beginning of the journey, sitting on the stair on the oft chance the object of his desire might descend and there would be a moment. By then end he attained his heart's desire, and I felt the rejoicing of it. Beautiful in form and substance... acquiesce is such a wonderful word to end it on... every word choice is superb... cheers... Gary....

I could have written a poem about the embarrassing waiting around I've done in just that way...but oh, dear, that would be galling...In this, the hope was fulfilled. Thanks for noticing 'acquiesce' which I liked better than 'surrender.' I am humbled by your kind words, and I am glad you enjoyed this.

On 03/21/2016 01:57 PM, skinnydragon said:

Great Parker!

 

Such a different story from tim's (though of course to be expected)!

 

Your marvelous interpretation hangs in the air, anticipant of fulfillment.

Nicely achieved!

Thanks, SD. Tim's had a great dramatic turn, this one more of a tableaux effect. The fulfillment is just barely sketched, but plainly there. Glad that came through. The first line came like an unexpected gift in the middle of the workday. Spent the rest of the day distracted trying to write bits on scraps of paper to stuff into my pocket...

On 03/21/2016 02:13 PM, AC Benus said:

Brilliant. A staircase is an intermediary space; it's neither up nor down. Poetically, it's the equivalent of bridge.

 

That the poet is waiting on the stair is an instant metaphor we all can relate to. Love descends like a star, to brush you, to take you with it, all the way to the one place you have been fearing to go.

 

The 'O love' repetition is heartbreaking, but the image of sharing coffee is domestic and hopeful. There is hope. This star of love sheds the brightest, warmest of light.

I am so very glad you liked this. I had a long tussle with the last stanza, 'O love whose heat...' There were so many directions to go in just four lines...coffee, one of the best inventions for love and friendship ever conceived...the stair was just hanging there, waiting like the speaker, on the off chance it could be used...I am glad you sensed the fear in this, too. Many thanks for your kind comments...

On 03/21/2016 04:44 PM, Emi GS said:

'O Love' will do the wonders from very first. Love always is. It was a wonderful poem of true Love is of enchantment :wub: for the Lovers. You have shown the very moment of how they are caught with its bliss. :D And I Love Coffee... ;)

 

Delightful poem Parker, you have done very well and I loved it... :)

 

~Emi.

I'm delighted you enjoyed it, Emi. As I said to SD, this poem appeared in my head completely unbidden. Had to scramble all day to remember it and write it down! Thanks so much for rut encouragement. And I love coffee, too!

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