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FIRST LOVE

Posted: Sat Nov 15, 2014 4:37 am
by Fay Slimm
Image



When she tasted the unbreathed air
away from girlhood's shallow stream
then it was she pinned up her hair
laced in her waist and saw meaning
in catching attention with breast
held high and eyes full of secrets.

But the boy covered his face, webs
of birds' nests cocooned his dreaming,
for climbing trees came first with him
yet as she strolled, branding his mind,
perfuming trails with siren-schemes
lone lake-bathing became tasteless
as surges drowned his stranded grief.

Remembering her scarlet mouth
hooked like a fish his writhing lips
dried while first love took its bounty.

Re: FIRST LOVE

Posted: Sat Nov 15, 2014 5:00 am
by Sandra Martyres
Wow.. Fay you have described first love with aplomb in this poem.. Superb imagery and great choice of words as usual!

Re: FIRST LOVE

Posted: Sat Nov 15, 2014 10:44 am
by Stella
A beautiful description of how youth changes into maturity.

Girls always seem to discover themselves a little earlier than boys and i like how you portray him still dreaming of boyish things until her feminine odour awakens something more mature inside him.

A lovely portrayal of first love Fay...and a beautiful presentation too

Re: FIRST LOVE

Posted: Sat Nov 15, 2014 10:59 am
by Tom Balch
First love portrayed beautifully, Fay. A lovely first read of the day.

Re: FIRST LOVE

Posted: Mon Jan 05, 2015 3:03 pm
by Joseph Anderson
Fay- my first kiss with my first love was a frightening affair. Would I get it right?
So long ago,but in memory still fresh. You have opened the floodgates of memories in
this moving, memorable and to me a precious write

Re: FIRST LOVE

Posted: Mon Jan 05, 2015 8:29 pm
by apoetwholovestosing
A divine write! I go back to that time and smile...I wrote him one of my first poems. He loved it! He would be 80 plus years, now too. Of course I remember his name! LOL
Dorothy
A Poet Who Loves To Sing

Re: FIRST LOVE

Posted: Tue Jan 06, 2015 7:17 pm
by Nightmute
Boys, though slower to mature than women, certainly try to make up for it, with gusto, when they discover that the tree is not quite as much fun to climb anymore. A breathtaking write on the discovery and emergence of Love, dear Fay.