The Morning After

Dawn breaks gently,
Softly kissing away the vestiges of last night,
With a calm gesture of a glad light.
Morning creeps slowly upon the two still body forms,
Still lying luxuriously on the bed,
And teases destiny with pregnant promises.
Finally,
The sun claims her rightful place,
As the queen and centre of life,
And proceeds to drench longing souls,
With her warm and dear shine.
It is morning again,
The morning after…

The morning after,
Finds the two spirits still enveloped,
In an eternal embrace of a blissful existence.
Mystic smiles,
Etches peace and contentment,
Across their countenances.
What a beholding occurrence.
She pulls him closer to her naked and nubile breasts,
Snuggling closer to him with unabashed gay,
She deeply breathes in his raw masculine scents.
And lets his sinewy form enclose, claim and consume her inner most longings,
With such a ravenous intent…

He opens his eyes,
And his gaze gladly falls upon her face,
He relishes the sleeping beauty with a certain gusto,
Letting the breathtaking soft beauty,
Sweep him away into the ether world.
She flutters open her eyes and their gazes lock tight.
Last night’s events slowly play out before them…
As evidenced by the morning after…

They recall with certain tenderness,
The exploration of the vast valleys,
Gardens and mountains they had traveled together last night.
They had played hide and seek amongst the endless groves and leas,
They had lain down by the brook side,
As the brook quietly wormed her way downstream,
And he had dipped his finger deep into its welcoming waters,
And had drunk from it’s banks to his fill.
The water of life.
She had held on to the taught and strong trunk of his essence,
Willing it to claim her essential essence in a sweet savour,
While she had quivered with an urgent need.
She desperately wanted the void deep inside of her filled with life.
His life.
And no one else.

The moment was upon them.
The moment of sheer truth.
The moment of no return.
The moment of sweet surrender.
And each had willingly surrendered to each others throbbing will.
Waves upon waves of tumultuous ecstasy and intense feeling,
Had swept them to places they have never been there before.
They felt lighter and soared high upon the crest of the sweet wave,
They climbed higher and higher with each thrust of the moment and movement,
And when they finally reached the summit of the proud mountain,
They had  both crushed down together and collapsed in a heap of pure sweetness.
Every pore in her being opened up and received him in totality,
And felt him flow into the very inner sanctum of her soul, her spirit.
Thick, hot and vital.
What a virility he possessed.
They were one,
In being,
In mind,
In soul,
In spirit.
She knew very well,
No one would ever be able take  her to that place,
Apart from him,
And the morning after confirmed this salient truth,
For she could see the need in his eyes again,
And she could feel him stir into life again…
As she lay down in his wide chest,
In an easy languor,
Ready to welcome him again,
Deep into her very being,
In the morning after..

© Ayoub Mzee Mzima 2013

Days Like These

It is days like these,
Bright and sunny,
Gay and warm,
Mellow and wondrous
Gentle and understanding,
When I miss your smile…

It is days like these,
Mellow and fine,
Playful and naughty,
Sweet and close,
Fresh and nibble,
When I miss the twinkle in your eyes…

When you coming back home?
I ask, but the mirror stares back at me,
Bereft of any answers.
Bereft of any light…

But again,
Days like these,
Took me back,
Back to the place that we first met,
Back many years,
The beautiful park…

It is here,
That I have found another sprout of new life, a new love,
Sprouting with the same pride and determination.
But what happened back there?
One day I will know.
One day you will understand.

But for now,
Let me nurture and nature,
This wondrous seed of hope and possibilities…

Ah. Days like these…

© Ayoub Mzee Mzima 2013

Love Is…

The warm and caring morning sunshine, kissing a willing countenance,
Wiping away the night’s vestiges from the eyes, and welcoming a delighted dawn,
And holding dreams in a tender embrace, and cooing songs of hope,
Is the epitome definition of love.
Love is the fresh mountain breeze,
That breathes in an inner tranquility, welcoming some early bliss,
Love is a toddler’s sure grin and implicit trust, her tiny soft fingers devoutly and intently gripping a hand.
This is love spawned and bestowed and ready to be celebrated.
Love is mellow and cleverly probing lyrics and in a melodious flows,
It is a singer’s voice serenading love’s rich promises and imbuing a willing soul.
The hypnotic guitar riffs reveal and unfurl heart’s deep desires.
Love is a beautiful song sung by a loving heart in fathomed tunes.
This love.
At night, maternal moon uncloaks shadowed night’s romances and mysteries.
She shadows a lover’s ephemeral dreams in shy and soft lights.
She whispers love. She echoes love.
The stars twinkles silhouetted greetings and bear witness to love’s truest moment.
A moment no one can deny but humbly acknowledge.
The night’s breezes brazenly breezes honed emotions,
Love as powerful deity.
This is love.

Copyright  2012 Ayoub Mzee

Furious Mother Nature

As the earth gives up life,
It’s sun-scorched soil refuses life.
Bareness claims another causality of furious nature.
Need surrounds every hope.
Thirst sears patched throats.
Reprieve is nowhere.
Suffering and anguish fills the long days.
Scratching the dead land for a living is not unlike a slow death.
The sun burns life beneath to oblivion it with a certain fury.
Winds sweeps away the dreams.
Darkness is unable to conceal the suffering.
The lunar can only illuminate the naked pain.
Mother mature can never forgive transgressions.
She was raped and battered by man.
Now man must pay for his sins.
All the trees that were callously cut down shall haunt his soul.
For the rain shall not rain again.
Droughts and famines shall be the seasons to count the passage of time.
Mother nature is unforgiving….

© Copyright 2012 Ayoub Mzee