Because she expressed it with absolute exquisiteness, I begin with what Judah Raine said in her blog ~ Poetry - the essence of being...
Whether we love to dance, to paint, to sing… that is the spirit of the poet in us finding expression. It is eternal, a well-spring of life and joy and simple contentment. It is looking at life with the “inner eyes” of our spirits – with compassion and with wisdom, not to deny the existence of tragedy or pain or injustice, but rather to see beyond that to a gift as precious as life itself. To the gift of hope, and of faith, and of love. It is a way to live life to the full.
Over the years I’ve written poetry for the sheer enjoyment of it. Because doing so satisfies something deep within me that would be expressed for its own sake. I even took a creative writing class in college specifically devoted to poetry and adored it.
I admit I never jumped whole-soul into the world of penning poetry. That world has never held much appeal to me because of its arbitrary *this is the right way to do it* limits. Yes, it’s way too restrictive for my freedom-loving nature.
Also, at the time, the favorite sport seemed to be ripping other people’s efforts to shreds, a knockdown drag-out battle of egos ~ not what I need or want in my life.
Okay, so poetic language often creeps into my novels. And poetry incorporates itself into some of my stories. To the delight of some readers. Yet, to the vexation of other readers.
One reason the original owners of Hardshell e-publishing (1997) accepted my novella, SAVAGE GAMESWOMAN, was because they particularly loved the poetic language. However, could I get it e-pubbed now? Probably not in a million tries, because of that very use of poetic language. Yep, to my reckoning, this is an odd world, indeed.
Actually, I hadn’t meant to go this route for this post. It popped out, unbidden, as poetry often does.
First, here’s a snippet-taste of HOW NOT to write a novella. Second, my newest poem.
SAVAGE GAMESWOMAN ~ an OtherWorld fantasy ~
“I have healing-respected you, Practitioner. Now I shall pagan-wild ride,” Khazaria fierce-silk ruled, beginning to rise from the iced crystalline waters.
Catching the tangled flame length of her hair, Dhagado enjoyed its coolness. He serpent-wrapped it around his hand, soft-forcing her to stillness. “Your svelte succulent beauty will not be raging-hoof and whip-ruined,” he ultimate-male commanded. Then caring-deliberate, he lifted her from the rejuvenating waters. Reaching down he slid the drying blanket around her shoulders.
“Then... galaxy-perhaps, you should devil-lust use my beauty. Before I riding-ruin it!” she temptress-defied, swaying from him like a goddess.
I am shamelessly a romantic. Within the rose-red depths my heart I yearn to write poetry which could be labeled ~ Soul Food for Lovers.
While this poem is no masterpiece, it was a bit of indulgent joy to write. I like to think it inspires the fierce and endless passions of the heart. For some.
Summer Solstice Seductress
My Summer Solstice Seductress, shades of yellow swirl around her, from golden to icy pale.
She is summer to my eye, her frock an airy whirlwind graced by the sensual display of her legs.
Curvaceous and gleaming with a delicate tan, I would devour her with my tender and brutal passions.
Before me, she is playful as a naughty kitten offering a carefree flirtation only for my pleasure.
I am in love with her ankles watching her flash them in the breezy sunlight as she glances at the flapping sail.
Around us, azure and peridot waters ripple forming diamonds. Yes, I adore her pert nose and silently beg.
If only her father will allow our match, I will dance her into the bold raptures of our love, our marital passions.
A queen aboard my sailing yacht, she kicks off her bright yellow sandals, so sassy with our light-hearted leisure.
A gust of wind lifts her long bouncing curls, a blaze of splendid red beneath the high laughing sun and I swear I will not fail.
Languidly lifting one shoulder, she eases back on one palm, a sweet seductive pose only for my eyes, then gracefully straightens one leg.
She sneaks a peek at me, smiling, a heart-shaped curve of her pink luscious mouth and I quiver like an untried lad with my passions.
A languorous tilt of her head, she surrenders to the sun-drenched rise of wind, her naked throat tempting my lips to plunder such a lovely treasure.
~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~