- Erotic Poetry
- On the couches of the Seraglio
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Click hereOn the couches of the Seraglio,
she offers me a peach,
I proffer back a pomegranate,
but keep it just out of reach.
She selects for me a melon,
of pinky-coloured hue,
and I give to her one
of honeydew.
She puts to my lips,
a slice of watermelon,
to take it and to and suck,
slowly spitting out the pips.
She smiles at me, as I give her,
my pomegranate sweet,
and she sucks so hard,
and she offers me a pear.
Our faces so wet, they glisten,
shining like the morning dew,
and we look and giggle
at the eunuchs as they listen.
They hear our words, see us play.
but understand so little,
as they watch impotently,
as thus we pass our day.
I play with the Sultana, as she
plays with me, and as for the
great Padisha,
why care for such as he?
He has each of us one night alone,
and the year would half suffice,
between one night and the next,
were I one of those he vexed
I ply him instead with tales,
of martial arms and valour,
and amuse him with my chatter,
and so I douse his fire.
If he should want my service,
it will be with my lips, but not
as others serve him,
but as he has come to wish.
But with my sweetest heart’s delight,
I play the giggling kitten,
as we feed each other fruit,
and I long for her at night.
- COMMENTS
So, I like the fact that a sultana can be both a seedless raisin and a concubine - sort of double entendre for your foodie piece. There's definitely a sexual association in literature between food and other entertainments which you demonstrate great ability to emphasize. You have a metaphorical air.
As for the sultan, pour some water on it. He's an unlikely appetizer. It's good to have a taste for variety.
I enjoyed this...
Ah, yes, comes the night
When prying eyes are out of sight.
I secretly slip beneath the cover
To become this night your only lover.
I pull your thighs apart
So into your garden my tongue can dart.
Your sweetness is like a tree-ripened pear
As my mouth licks beneath your curly hair.
I turn about so you can do the same to me
As we kiss each other with girlish glee.
When we are done and our orgasm has come
I must slip out and quickly run
Before my man notices I'm not there,
As he also wants my body to share.
Thank you. No, all comments, even mine, go into moderation.
I am so, so glad you like this. There will be more poetry as the story continues.
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A beautiful accompaniment piece to Rahab's tale. I really do like your poetry. Feeding each other fruit is such a sensual thing as is your poem. Thank you Pixie
Jc