The Mushy Octet! Poem by Leslie Xavier

The brisk, long steps,
weren't swift enough,
to slip her grasp
or the pull towards her heart
for a spray of love,
on me and the 'fall-carpet'.
She in jest this morning,
the naughty splash
and the dew dreams under shower.
Gifts from within her soul,
firm and full,
mush-made by her lover,
through kisses and caresses,
a couple nights in a row.
Ah! The suppressed emotions,
and the recovering heart,
gone depression; all
blown away by season's whiffs,
towards farther lands.
While some are dispersed in short,
sweet lips on the forehead,
on mine too; my day!

I jogged, half-hearted,
not to run and hide,
but to get caught,
yeah, the fun of the chase.
Till I found that 'octet' hamlet,
with musical chirps
and notes from 'em hearts,
who found an haven,
from the glares
and summer stares,
right during spring.
Empty benches with strings,
tuned guitars all clamped,
for musing minds,
to sit, watch and enjoy the bamboo shoots
grow and become men;
as human nature zooms past,
in haste, honking horns.

Exertion followed - the bodily drives,
brow moist from the salted,
scented sweat mixed with
fresh water bubbles,
dripping from the leaky roof.
The vine showing glimpses
of the peeping tom of the day,
a middle-aged man,
with fired up morality,
aghast by this lover,
who dares to kiss his girl,
in broad daylight,
under his nose.
Free-show aye buddy,
the young hearts laughed;
while an old man walked,
away from the Cupid's nest.
Then, the day began,
with a tired nap,
kissing her tender lips.