deepundergroundpoetry.com
Forbidden Mistress
I think of my love, and of those most deep places
Wherein I give all of my being, to sate the flames,
Which roar within my being, awakening the graces
Hot enough to evaporate the waters of the Thames!
I think of my lust for you, and of its' potent caress
Like your hand reaching out for the hem of my dress,
To slip beyond, into places where only lovers dare
Taking me on a journey to a realm beyond compare.
Eternity is a long time, but not long enough for us!
We are children of passion, and in pleasure we trust.
I think of our history, and keep learning ever more
Though we have been companions since the dawn,
When time first awoke, in an age known as before
Wherein we flew in the dark before lit was the sun!
I think of my joy for you, for all that you truly are
And of the love we share, that no past pain can mar,
For in its' imperfections it is ideal, and thus perfect
And to know it I count myself among the high elect.
Forever is a long time, but not long enough for love!
Take me by the hand dear, so we can fly far above.
Brand me with your sight, look into my spirit!
Sear me with love's flame, for I do not fear it.
The skies of Hell await, and there we may flit!
I think of your heart, and how it touches my soul
Like nothing else in the world could ever truly do,
Even the love of my father could never so console
My wounded spirit, in ways that are passingly true!
My love, I am proud to be your forbidden mistress
Dearest Kara, you make me feel so utterly blessed,
That all I want is to become lost in your very stare
Where there is boundless joy in which I may share.
Even if I must share you with countless who adore!
I am content to be your lover, and very much more.
I think of your face, and how to me it is most ideal
Your eyes promising me more than words will say,
And all of paradise I desire, an Elysium made real
By an inner flame that is hot as a summer's midday!
Let me warm myself by your heat until all is as ash
Scourging myself with all of your kisses like a lash,
Crowning myself with your caresses, as your queen
Giving myself to your divinity, which I have seen.
Better wings of a bat then those worn by an angel!
At your side, Kara, I learned to fly infinitely well.
Wherein I give all of my being, to sate the flames,
Which roar within my being, awakening the graces
Hot enough to evaporate the waters of the Thames!
I think of my lust for you, and of its' potent caress
Like your hand reaching out for the hem of my dress,
To slip beyond, into places where only lovers dare
Taking me on a journey to a realm beyond compare.
Eternity is a long time, but not long enough for us!
We are children of passion, and in pleasure we trust.
I think of our history, and keep learning ever more
Though we have been companions since the dawn,
When time first awoke, in an age known as before
Wherein we flew in the dark before lit was the sun!
I think of my joy for you, for all that you truly are
And of the love we share, that no past pain can mar,
For in its' imperfections it is ideal, and thus perfect
And to know it I count myself among the high elect.
Forever is a long time, but not long enough for love!
Take me by the hand dear, so we can fly far above.
Brand me with your sight, look into my spirit!
Sear me with love's flame, for I do not fear it.
The skies of Hell await, and there we may flit!
I think of your heart, and how it touches my soul
Like nothing else in the world could ever truly do,
Even the love of my father could never so console
My wounded spirit, in ways that are passingly true!
My love, I am proud to be your forbidden mistress
Dearest Kara, you make me feel so utterly blessed,
That all I want is to become lost in your very stare
Where there is boundless joy in which I may share.
Even if I must share you with countless who adore!
I am content to be your lover, and very much more.
I think of your face, and how to me it is most ideal
Your eyes promising me more than words will say,
And all of paradise I desire, an Elysium made real
By an inner flame that is hot as a summer's midday!
Let me warm myself by your heat until all is as ash
Scourging myself with all of your kisses like a lash,
Crowning myself with your caresses, as your queen
Giving myself to your divinity, which I have seen.
Better wings of a bat then those worn by an angel!
At your side, Kara, I learned to fly infinitely well.
Published 25th Jul 2022
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 3
reading list entries 1
comments 5
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The author encourages honest critique.
Ms. Beatriz,
Your passion of emotional oneness for Ms. Kara is outstanding within this poetic piece. I'm a good writer! Y'all just do babe! And, great writing chances and kudos to u.
U the 💣! Here's some smiles! 🍫🍭🌷🍑💋❤️🚿🛁🍇🔯
Your passion of emotional oneness for Ms. Kara is outstanding within this poetic piece. I'm a good writer! Y'all just do babe! And, great writing chances and kudos to u.
U the 💣! Here's some smiles! 🍫🍭🌷🍑💋❤️🚿🛁🍇🔯
25th Jul 2022 3:36am
Many a thank you for the praise of my poem! I never tire of expressing the depths of my devoted love for my sweetest Kara... and sprinkling in more than a handful, of deep and dark occult meanings besides. The smiles are very welcome! Good to see you stopped by to comment.
25th Jul 2022 4:56am
29th Nov 2022 6:58am
Hoi hoi @la bruja oscura
Blessed are you both, it seems and this beautiful poem reads alike a prayer.
I’ll be back to read it again, tomorrow.
And see if I’ll be captured under the/your spell again.
In the dark days before Xmas, you’ve made my day beautiful.
Thank you!
Afterthought:
In Catalonia, north east Spain, the tren de la bruja is always present. It’s a train for small children. The train pulls through a tunnel and at the end of the tunnel, the witch pats the children’s heads ever so softly with a small broom. It’s the knowledge that the witch will be waiting at the end of the tunnel, that makes them squeal with delight.
See? I love your alias.
Kind regards, Gus
Blessed are you both, it seems and this beautiful poem reads alike a prayer.
I’ll be back to read it again, tomorrow.
And see if I’ll be captured under the/your spell again.
In the dark days before Xmas, you’ve made my day beautiful.
Thank you!
Afterthought:
In Catalonia, north east Spain, the tren de la bruja is always present. It’s a train for small children. The train pulls through a tunnel and at the end of the tunnel, the witch pats the children’s heads ever so softly with a small broom. It’s the knowledge that the witch will be waiting at the end of the tunnel, that makes them squeal with delight.
See? I love your alias.
Kind regards, Gus
23rd Dec 2022 9:23pm
It is good you like the poem that I wrote! This poem, for me, was expressive of so much of my feelings for Kara, and it was a prayer, a musing, and a window into my thoughts, feelings, and emotions at the time I wrote it. There is always dark magic in my works, but dark not mean evil in this case. One of the things that Kara and I sort of taught each other is this truth, though I think Kara knew it long before. I merely helped to make it clearer and help the one I love along their destined path. Just as in many ways, Kara helped me.
They do call Samhain the dark season, and it continue until early January for many who follow the old traditions. But it only called dark because the days are shorter and the veil between realities is a little thinner than other times of year. Me, I always like Samhain!
In ancient times, a witch such as myself was never considered to be a dark or an evil thing. We were always wise women, and there was a time when we were much sought after for our knowledge. To look at myths of people like Baba Yaga gives a glimpse into this, though over time the stories spun her more wicked than they should have. There is nothing to fear in meeting a witch, and I think that many children understand that good. All depends on how a child is raised, and how culture plays a strong part in things too, sometimes.
Kind regards to you also!
They do call Samhain the dark season, and it continue until early January for many who follow the old traditions. But it only called dark because the days are shorter and the veil between realities is a little thinner than other times of year. Me, I always like Samhain!
In ancient times, a witch such as myself was never considered to be a dark or an evil thing. We were always wise women, and there was a time when we were much sought after for our knowledge. To look at myths of people like Baba Yaga gives a glimpse into this, though over time the stories spun her more wicked than they should have. There is nothing to fear in meeting a witch, and I think that many children understand that good. All depends on how a child is raised, and how culture plays a strong part in things too, sometimes.
Kind regards to you also!
