by Roland King
An entreaty to his goddess lover
|A companion poem to that of my dear friend 🌑 Darleen's writing a novel entitled "My Adonis" .
As I throw the powder
upon the fire of your altar,
the flames turn purple-
the color of royalty.
It is also the color of the silk
you wear in my mind's eye
that slips from your shoulders
as you near my bedside. On
the night you descended
from the Olympian Mount
to make love to my less than godly
The curve of your breast was first revealed
in the soft light of the moon.
Your hair smelled of the sweetness
of the sea from whence you were born.
When the silk slipped completely to the floor
revealing your modesty to my spear-like gaze,
I prayed that this was more than a dream
and I would be allowed to enter your supple cleft.
Often I had prayed to be visited by my goddess,
often I had dreamt of a visit, but awoken, just
as your hand reached out to me.
But on this night, your hand touched my bare leg
as I lay nude upon my unremarkable bed.
And as you climbed atop me, your hands firmly
pressed upon my chest,
I felt you envelope me as your eyes stared into mine.
Your lips pressed softly against mine, with the
sweetness of ambrosia, the food of the Olympians
still on your lips.
And as your body moved in rhythm with my own, I fancied
that I saw the
moon and sun
rise and set
in time with
as though our hours of lovemaking
instead were years that passed by.
And then when you were satisfied,
with one last kiss
I confessed my love for my goddess
and you whispered you loved me too.
Then you faded like an ocean breeze
and I found myself alone
wondering if I simply dreamt once more.
And so I come to you now in your temple,
the taste of your ambrosia still on my lips,
the fire you have planted in me still burning
as a twin flame to your own heart,
and I burn this incense for you so that I may
see your face once more.
I wait, and you do not reply,
I do not smell the sea, nor do I hear
your voice call my name.
I realize your heavenly presence
must have been only the deepest wishes
of my heart. Then I hear
the soft rustle
of purple silk.