Genesis Poem by Elizabeth Jones

Plucked from her branch, perfect apple sweet,
In the heart of his own paradise.
Her centre a havoc of lustful heat.
His voice a litany of vice.

The act forbidden, her body unsung,
As his teeth broke her porcelain skin.
The flavour of her lingered upon his tongue.
Ravaged innocence their cardinal sin.

Dazed euphoria caused her mind to spin,
Revelled he in the joys of curious woman.
Wrought with emotional chaos within.
All the fire inside of her bosom.

But what now was lost to aching despair,
And torn from arms of desperate love,
Left him forlorn, vulnerable and bare
To wrath from heaven's up above.

She was not his, yet he longed for her touch,
Forfeit now to fate and chance.
Her beauty, the world had never seen such
Victims of cruelest circumstance.

Time so fleeting, 'twas but a torment,
A grasping fist of golden sand.
It slipped and poured, a fleeting moment,
Grains ever drifting from his hand.

When all you are is who you love,
And knowing that they love you back.
That when they're gone, a void of
Light, and all that's left is darkest black.

That joyless voice that whispers wake,
A grinding darkness deep within.
Pouring hell, and ghosts, and forlorn heartache,
Crawling beneath your skin.

A glorious beauty his eyes now saw,
Like cloudless skies on a summer's eve.
Upon the balmy, warm evening yaw,
From the rising heat, no sweet reprieve.

Breathtaking beauty on glorious display,
Where burnished sunlight framed,
A ghost silhouetted by the realm of day.
A hopeful, barren heart enflamed.

He reached to touch soft, tender wrist
And watched this vision turn.
Measured clearing of a sorrowful mist,
Fair face framed by hair auburn.

From his dreams it seemed, conjured she came,
That familiar smile upon her face.
A burning rose within a flame.
A heavenly radiance of grace.

Day gave way, a blanket of sunshine,
Amber warmth, and late the hour.
Hand took hand, their fingers intertwined,
And in her hair a perfumed flower.

Eyes of blue and bright with light,
Deep pools in which his heart could swim.
Giver of empyrean, sheer delight,
Sweet excess filled them to the brim.

To once more drink her lips of richest berries,
A soft touch which milieu hadst blurred.
Full and red as sweet ripe cherries,
Heart full, summer love doth stir.

The evening air filled with amorous sighs,
As starved hands grasped and plundered.
Passion captured in tremulous eyes,
In her heart, exquisite ravishment and wonder.

To lay again upon his love's full breast,
And drift upon its soft fall and swell.
Awake, yet dreaming in a sweet unrest,
Listening to her tender breath's spell.

To lay he wished, to his heart's content,
A soul so sweetly spelled.
By gentle love and lazy languishment,
A roaring passion quelled.

Three little words to soothe the soul,
And wrap her in his adoration.
Fate's broken pieces now made whole,
By a perfect creature of God's creation.