A STORY. 96. LET ME FEEL MY DEAR
You wake up slowly. You become aware that you’re in a comfortable old armchair, in a rather rundown second hand bookstore. You hadn’t been aware of dozing off. You had been reading. You remember that. A love poem. You just closed your eyes for a moment.
You look down. The book of love poems is still open on your lap.
You remember now. The Warmth Within.
You decide to continue . . .
You close your eyes again. You’re very aware of your warm clothes against your skin. You’re not used to reading love poetry. In fact, come to think of it, you’ve never read love poetry. Maybe most, you’re not used to words about touch, about hands on the skin.
This time, though, you don’t doze off. Instead, you open your eyes and continue.
And with that, the poem has come to an end.
You like it, the words about letting the loving touch more than the skin.
So many of the words are still in your mind, about feeling the warmth, the growing warmth, the love and the warmth within.
To be continued . . .
A STORY. 97. LET ME FEEL YOUR SKIN
https://elsaiselsa.substack.com/p/a-story-97-let-me-feel-your-skin
A STORY. ALL THE CHAPTERS ... UP TO NOW
https://elsaiselsa.substack.com/p/a-story-table-of-contents-up-to-now
Posted Dec 15, 2024
Well done, Elsa, not many of us poets here--there is another woman poet here but I cannot recall her Substack, have a view and try to find her.
Your post on love poetry pokes me to begin to post my love poetry since I find so little good love poetry ever written—which I consider mine to be.
The only modern poet who writes what I consider truly "good" love poetry is Kenneth Rexroth.
By good I mean the sexual aspects must be included but not as titillation or boast or in transcendental terms.
Here are a few lines from Kenneth's poem "Between Myself and Death" that I consider good love poetry:
I like to think of you naked.
I put your naked body
Between myself alone and death.
If I go into my brain
And set fire to your sweet nipples,
To the tendons beneath your knees,
I can see far before me.
It is empty there where I look,
But at least it is lighted.
I hope this inspires you towards good love poetry.
Poet Jack
lovely "song" from the heart... The warmth in us... holy ground...