The Wife And The Mistress. Poem by Nikhil Parekh

The Wife And The Mistress.



The wife was like the fathomlessly barren sky; whilst the mistress was like those tantalizingly voluptuous clouds; which unrelentingly and profusely soaked aridly crippled soil; with droplets of priceless rain,

The wife was like the boundless territories of blandly open grass; whilst the mistress was like those amazingly seductive platter of dewdrops; which forever quenched the thirst of everlastingly burgeoning desire,

The wife was like the endless pond of innocuously untainted lotus's; whilst the mistress was like the stupendously unconquerable scent that wafted in every direction; titillating even the most infinitesimal hair of the nostril to stand till the ultimate cloud 9,

The wife was like the monstrously mechanized and drab car; whilst the mistress was like those golden globules of piquantly jubilant petrol; which perpetuated even the most lifelessly disgusted of wheels; to infallibly fly forward like white lightening in the sky,

The wife was like the unceasingly tranquil shores; whilst the mistress was like those ravishingly undulating waves; which fomented even the most morbidly stagnating lava's; to tempestuously explode,

The wife was like the eternally symbiotic forest; whilst the mistress was like those mischievously gallivanting leopards and perpetually melodious nightingales; which magically enlightened the sordid gloominess of the abominably claustrophobic night,

The wife was like the indomitably unshakable mountain; whilst the mistress was like those seductively enamoring peaks; which inevitably attracted countless a wanderer; into their spell-bindingly misty swirl,

The wife was like the impeccably venerated cisterns of milk; whilst the mistress was like those mouthfuls of unbelievably poignant curd; which ecstatically engendered a billion pores of the skin to interminably shout out in untamed delight,

The wife was like the unflinchingly faithful candle; whilst the mistress was like those delectably scrumptious flames of compassion; which stirred an incredulous new revolution in even the most deadened senses of nonchalant man,

The wife was like the wondrously nourishing pudding; whilst the mistress was like those effulgently scarlet topping of cherries; which so painstakingly left your tongue unfinished; even after you'd consumed an infinite more,

The wife was like the peerlessly pristine cobweb never ever changing its color with the changing shades of light; whilst the mistress was like those royally vivacious spiders; which unabashedly stabbed the vials of unending exultation into every
man dead or alive,

The wife was like the unendingly blissful valley; whilst the mistress was like those exuberantly uninhibited echoes of sensuousness; which traced the most inscrutable pathway of mystique; through even the most infinitesimally intricate curve of the masculine skin,

The wife was like the eclectically utility knife; whilst the mistress was like those incredulously sharpened edges of excitement; which unremittingly pierced through even the most emotionlessly obdurate scepters of manhood,

The wife was like the earnestly unshakable foundation; whilst the mistress was like those rhapsodically fresh splashes of paint; which granted new leases of indispensable life to every hopelessly shattered man on this planet,

The wife was like the wonderfully consecrated mouth; whilst the mistress was like those effervescently inimitable whistles; which simply swept you from your
beleaguered feet; transporting you to the pricelessly ultimate hilt of paradise,

The wife was like the perspicuously unconquerable vision; whilst the mistress was like those victoriously mascara coated eyelashes; which flirted with every handsomely eligible bachelor on planet divine,

The wife was like the untiringly vast; accommodating and spiceless desert; whilst the mistress was like those tirelessly seducing mirages; which made man fervently salivate more than a million kilometers barefoot; under the most acrimoniously blazing
rays of the Sun,

The wife was like the unassailable virile seed sown; whilst the mistress was like those innumerable droplets of ardent sweat on soil; which perpetuated even the most lifelessly infertile of masculine skins; to relentlessly languish and roll in them; till times
beyond infinity,

And whereas the wife shall forever remain immortal as she is the insuperably ameliorating heart; the mistress would add that indispensably needed enlightenment to every shade of human existence; forever ensuring that every man always embraces none else but "Woman"; on this limitlessly enthralling Universe.

Saturday, March 5, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: mistress,wife
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Nikhil Parekh

Nikhil Parekh

Dehradun, India
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