PASSION

Like dark molten honey, caressing her tongue,
A sip of coffee, her soul's song sung.
Caffeine's addiction, a taste bud's delight,
In each cup's embrace, a magical excite.

Once, books held charm, a captivating spell,
Yet, blame not the tree, where her eyes dwell.
Majestic and grand, it draws her gaze,
Intoxicating her mind, in its emerald maze.

Sacred shades of green, a sanctuary it weaves,
Cocoons her in peace, where her heart believes.
Leaves whisper secrets in an ancient tongue,
Escapism finds her, in fantasies spun.

Solitude her sanctuary, a disposition to be alone,
Till a dog's bark shatters peace's throne.
Reality intrudes, yet the tree lends its grace,
Offering solace, in its gentle embrace.

But awareness dawns, she's not alone,
Eyes, smoldering black, pierce through like stone.
A familiar feeling, this de`ja` vu's strange,
Pleasurable, yet puzzling, this mystical exchange.

Her wrap wrapped tight, she shields her form,
From eyes that linger, from eyes that warm.
To her book, she glances, then the TV's glare,
Where old Hollywood plays, a classic affair.

Behold! The screen shifts, a movie unfolds,
She's the leading lady, his desire behold.
Across the table, this stranger, she sees,
In celluloid frames, they ignite memories.

Passion erupts, a love scene ensnares,
In black and white, their ardor flares.
His fingers on strings, like a skilled musician,
Plucks her heart's notes, in sweet rendition.

Under her skirt, questing fingers roam,
In search of excellence, to call his own.
Past lives entwined, a phenomenal connection,
No words needed, just soul's affection.

He saunters closer, a smile in return,
Their story unfolds, as love's fire burns.

Imran Nazeer
~  ~  ~