Ecstasy is not so much as when I twirl
from slender jade tendrils
With my lilac flaired skirt turned half upwards
Swaying coquettishly in the light breeze
Flirting openly with the mid-morning Sun
That just climbed into my horizon
Trumpeting my secret desires whispered to the Sun
Ecstasy is not so much as when I lay
Draped in shades of malachite and jade
As the springs first born soft blades
Rolling out my welcome with overwhelming
Emerald heralding the awakening youth
Dishelved with all the touselling with early morning breeze
Into the golden sunshine cascading through
Soft blue skies that once were leaded grey
Ecstasy is not so much of my joyous pyrotechnics
Scattering my mirth as an outburst of hundreds of starlets
White and pristine grinning unabashedly
Clinging to each limb of the low shrub
Waiting for the Sunrays to carry them feathery petals
To the dew drenched wet ground beneath impetuously
Ecstasy is when you call after a long period of silence
And go on to embrace me with more silence voluptuously
With back-handed accusations of perfidy
Arraignment of the waves that couldn’t reach the sea shore
The ravines that sprang up camoflaged as ego
Till this call where silence spoke in several dialects simultaneously
And each nuance and foreign verse if the silence understood effortlessly
Of needs of the soul, of hungers of the heart, of deprivations carnal
Comprehended and acknowledged with a blush of goosebumps
The ecstatic silence trembling longingly!
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