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A Day With Starlight Solo

I greet her. She nods, Slowly, Imperiously.
Familiar, yet restrained.
I know her moods as she does mine.
She inclines to my touch.. softly...
We sense the change that is each other.
She is constant, always welcoming,
But with a newness, a freshness, that makes me smile.

Languidly she stretches. I clothe her; make her ready
as she immerses me in our shared liturgy.
And now.... we move.... in perfect time,
Subtle measures, no movement in excess.
A product of long knowing and loving care.
Yet another exploration of who we are; together.

We challenge the other in subtle ways.
With great respect and laughing taunts.
Touching, tentatively the extents of the other.
Delightfully probing the boundaries.

We love publicly. In full view.
But with a veiled arcane intensity.
The sum of endless encounters.
Generations of lovers hopelessly bemused in the other.

A dance without form. We move
Effortlessly, without reserve or care.
The steps not planned; not written.
Time is irrelevant. We exist in suspension;
Learning the dances and yearning for more.
From gentle waltz to passionate tango
We celebrate each other and the day.

Sated now..
We both begin the closing calm.
Slowly I dress her for sleep and quietly leave.
She, with a languid nod, warmed by the joys of the day.
I, clothed in memories of her.

Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Last few words: 
Starlight was a sailing vessel I had once. I spent some of my most fulfilling days and nights on board her. Its hard for someone, not a sailor, to comprehend how one can feel towards a thing of wood and canvas.
Editing stage: 

Comments

of yours Joe
I especially liked the last stanza and the last line .Perfect closing for the poem I thought
Couldn't think of anything to offer.

❤❤❤❤❤❤

Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words
........Robert Frost☺

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Glad you stopped by to read this. Sailing is a very visceral experience for me. My family have been sailors and captains of our own vessels for generations, almost within our DNA.

My mind's writing cheques my body can't cash.

author comment

I've never been sailing but feel I understand the sentiment,
much like being one with a motorcycle or a climb on a rock
face, exhilarating and familiar yet not without a certain amount
of risk.

Enjoyed your poem, thought you were talking about a woman
at first, threw me a bit until reading the afterward, perhaps it was
just me but felt I needed more clues as to the subject matter.
That being said, after knowing, read it twice more and really felt
it.

thanks,
Richard

Thanks for reading this, Richard. I'm glad you enjoyed it. My intention in writing this poem was to show that a vessel, especially a sailing vessel, is that of a lover, with all the dimensions of sensuousness and passion a loving relationship provides.

The "afterword" explanation I provided would typically be placed as a "foreword" however there is no provision for that in the structure of this site. I agree that without that explanation ahead of the poem, it does become a bit obscure.

Thanks again,

Joe

My mind's writing cheques my body can't cash.

author comment

.
when you talk of her

and say solo
my mind rushes flushes and blushes
as a sailor why!
you ought to know

but that your lover be a boat,
I needn’t quote
twas a surprise
for anyone to read
poetry
as lovely…
what a coincidence
my mind resembled some ones
but hello sailor
I like to see the real poetry
of a sailor at sea
as he rests the night in a country …..
as foreign as distant from home,
it can be
is my impression of a sailor
questionable..
tell me how it can be…

loved

As always, my brother, I value your comments.

Joe

My mind's writing cheques my body can't cash.

author comment

I had many shippy sailors
of whom I know

the poems that I have mused
all on yours
by error of the unknown ==ignorance
you are a sailor simple
Torontian
now I know

loved

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