Caught Up in Metaphors

by Nancy Machlis Rechtman

A rose with drops of dew on its petals

He told me that my eyes
Were stars twinkling in the night
And when he kissed me he murmured
That my lips were the sweet petals of roses.

My heart became the flutter
Of birds’ wings soaring through the trees
And his words
Were the silky balm on my wounded soul.

“Your voice is the melody
That plays only for me,”
He softly whispered,
His words a breeze on the wind.

His touch was the brush of soft velvet
On my skin, suddenly liquid gold
And our love was now the burning flame
Leapfrogging wildly across the sky.

Category: Featured, Poetry