Sweet Addiction Poem by Reshma Ramesh

I want to bury myself in my fiction-prose and there tell stories on stories, endless stories of my people, of Africa, in the new age, now the Obama age. But your poetry, your mode of expression, is a magnet pulling me into poetry, more and more, into thoughts that don't come out in words. (Neruda has done this already; but I'm still fighting him) 'You asked about me from the flowers today, in the afternoon, what did they tell you I must quickly return to my prose-fiction or, I'll just sit by the seaside of your evocative poems and not write again Mark

Wonderful imagery and a softness, a lightness to cherish..... Almost mystical.... keep writing. Rx

The Night Is Half Over The spell of your love The soothing ways when I searched Myself in the autumn and wilderness The crescent moon which had caught Red from the sunset as if from your frock The enchantment of the evening is to continue The tavern is there in the street of Khayyam The saki has returned and lo the first goblet Leave alone” loneliness of ages” for I know The sage with his advice and the keeper of the order The city was empty for the enchantment was dead In the temple of love when your silhouette did appear In dark and mysterious and with steps of the dance Cup after cup saki the evening’s going down Before the sunrise in the cold silver of the morning How shall I leave the tavern my love Like mercury your lips swerve for the story Say it not for I read it in your eyes Keep the red lips for a day when the tavern Of my heart is empty and the pitcher gone dry Dry shall it never be it your lips Cup after cup from the sadness in my heart I want to drink like passion of Rumi Broken have I bond with the beloved What a magician this love is unto me Drunk are thou from the passion of thy love Sleep in the tavern for the night is half over