Rhonda Davis

The Passion Of Life

One taste of the sweet nectar of passion and like an alcoholic the need to drink will once again overwhelm all reality.
To taste the sweetness of life upon the tongue, swishing gently around the mouth like fine wine.
The aroma and fullness like a kiss placed fresh upon a virgin's lips.
The burning deep within the body as it hits the core like a furnace stoked high in winter,
releasing water droplets dripping to cool the inferno.
Fire's heat that swelters through forming pools as rising steam as the sweat of skin on skin builds and drips.
A heart of fire burns with raging rapids thrown into the pool of human need.
Drenched in the waterfall's depths until the lungs need to fill with the lingering mist left from the fire.
Passion smolders in the essence of the kiss, until the need to drink comes again.

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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, November 15, 2005

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Comments about The Passion Of Life by Rhonda Davis

  • Joseph Daly (11/16/2005 12:16:00 PM)

    Ah! Optimism. A celebration of an act of love. This is something very few people would be capable of doing.

    There is a certain ambiguity in it, in that one wonders what is measnt by the last line; is alcohol (or any other substance for that matter) a substitue or a way of the narrator cutting themselves off from that which they are missing? Is it a metaphor or just a simple need?


    Denis Joe

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