THE SCARLET LETTER

Presenting each perfection he had known,
her flawlessness was fertile ground
to raise the seeds he’d sown
of optimism blended with torment,
a whispering of floweret, sign of Fate’s intent.

Her eyes voiced poetry through heavy lid
that hinted of a sensual side
deliberately kept hid
behind the dainty flutter of a lash,
a harvesting of thought that, even murmured, might abash.

Her lips, rare-parted,hollowed out his soul;
a careless glossy flick would
crush a man or make him whole,
and yet he cherished each ungiving pout;
her smouldering of promise was much louder than a shout.

His haunting doubts were crushed one sultry day;
as shards of light unearthed the truth
her mystique peeled away
and as he watched the veil fall from disguise
betrayal of a feigned perfection etched the tacit lies.

Inscibed, though gracefully, in scarlet ink
the letter A was balanced,
like a bird upon the brink,
upon one creamy limb, to his delight;
a revelation of some kind he relished with no spite.

It made his Love accessible,this foible to adorn
and were it not impossible, a deeper need was born.
Dethroned by her endearing foolish whims.
This moment was love’s watershed for him.