You breaststroke to the other bank and stand
With a cheeky grin splitting your tired face
Your dress clings to you like a passionate second skin
Refusing to be hung out to dry–
I watch you as I try to catch your teasing chants
I do not dare to deceive the wrinkled waves
I row across a kingfisher-friendly wooded stream of thought–
You hug and kiss me like a long-lost secret lover
And this is where the gulf of difference lies
In the way you promptly bandage wounded pride
And do things as soon as you think and sense
They should be done
To bring a smile back on someone’s face
While I wait for wayward words, or worse,
An elusive, sheltering second sight.
A well wrought evocative work.
Thank you very much, Louis.
powerful imagery , and highly evocative
Thank you,dear Santosh.