She was the sort of girl who could not say, "no."
Which greatly enhanced her attraction
in those distant days and nights
when there was a mad dash
for liberation.
She enjoyed the company
of older men, married or not,
for brief encounters
and prolonged affairs
of the heart.
The key to eternal pleasure
she discovered
was the constant
renewal of lovers
whom she changed
nearly as often as the sheets.
Then the time came in her life
when those she once loved
began to appear in obituaries.
She remembered the treasured
rendezvous, the roses
and heart-felt poetry,
the pleasures of the flesh
and the quickened pulses
but began to cry
when she read the names
of children and grandchildren,
none of whom were hers.
Author notes
"Adoring a beloved in very close moments is the eternal pleasure." ~Unknown Unfortunately, there is a price to be paid for such pleasure.
A contest entry
- the eternal pleasure... by PrabhuDayal Khattar.
400 points, ended November 13, 2008, 13 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
1 - 5 of 5
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This is really a great take as the story you narrated here bringing a depth the poetry here..well done..thanks for sharing..
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Such a beautiful, sad, emotional piece indeed. Some people just want something and they think that one thing will make them happy, but then they realize, they don't truly have what will make them the happiest. Wonderful job and good luck in the contest!
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All looking for satisfaction, beyond the limitations, while we're 'cooked' in them.
Sol
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Sadly this is so true to life, not just as a foot note of this century but a morale code tattered from the beginning of time. Most striking is those she once loved began to appear in obituaries, the surviving family-none were hers.
Time takes its revenge as lonliness captures those without comittment for love that has passed in the distance. The flow is gentle and smooth as the reader takes one line at a time as if swilled over the tongue to embrace the taste of an aged wine. Treasures of the past lost in cob web and remember scent of roses now pressed dry.
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Thank you for your thoughts on this piece. Your response is poetic. It seems that there is a generation of vetrans of the "sexual revolution" who are living with regrets. Free love was not free at all.
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