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Harp’s Nylon Strings

bled cherry drops at your every exodus
My hearts-raced at every knock-on the
door, endless ebony nights were
spent on cupid’s lyre of harp’s
nylon strings.

Yet I thrived in backyards of your menacing
wastelands, only to grasp your ruthless
love’s gloom, like deep-deep cuts of
two-edged dagger.

I breathed despite all your wicked games, at times
drowning in insidious curvaceous waves of
lust and, others sweltering in blazes of
my own envious rage.

I survived the looks of disdain, the barrage of
abuses that reigned; while composing for
nights lovers of my kinds, a melancholic
melody of love on the harp’s nylon
strings.

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13 thoughts

    • Thanks Dave, I am really glad that you liked it, I love playing with language and poetry allows me that freedom. I am truly humbled by your kind words!!

  1. You’ve done it (unsurprisingly) again Tanya. There’s such an exotic, beautiful way with which you paint words for the reader’s eyes. So well done.

    • Thanks a lot Bill, I’ve always been fascinated by the Harp, and the thought of penning a verse on it was brewing in my mind! As far as exoticism I guess a feminine poetic charm should always be there when a woman puts together a poem!!

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