Narrative Poetry: Shaynani and the Rich Man's Daughter

Shaynani’s heart tossed, turned, quivered and pulsated rapidly,

Into the late hours of the night.

He’d not seen such beauty, allure … enticement …

And his body burned with desire.

Now lying on his bed some eight hours later,

Shaynani’s memory drifted to some of the pinnacle of beauties:

Helen of Troy; Queen Nefertiti; Cleopatra …

He embraced feelings, such as he’d not felt before, and his heart sank.

She was never going to be his woman, was she?

He, a mere servant in a rich man’s house,

With high school perhaps his greatest achievement.

Why would the boss’s youngest and most adorable daughter,

Take a second look at this working class man?

Filled with the glamour of youth,

Azure blue eyes and stately gait,

Sooltana had a commanding appearance.

She knew how to walk and dazzle,

And Shayani fell victim to her charms and wiles.

Shaynani burnt with passion,

Finding it difficult to quell his now tormented mind,

As waves of desire scorched his gentle frame.

Somehow, amidst the splinters

Of his broken heart and exhaustive cravings,

Shaynani fell asleep in the twilight hours of the dawn.

That morning, Shaynani had a visitation from a most effulgent Being.

From within the portals of another realm,

She reached out and touched him,

As his body went into a peak of ecstatic states.

He felt an unutterable Love and Joy unprecedented,

Sending him into a drunken stupor,

And he blissed out in ambrosial Delight.

He began to remember his lusts; his mundane desires …

As one by one they slowly faded into non-existence,

And the goddess smiled and slowly diminished from his dream…

When Shaynani’s mother came to his bedside that morning,

She saw a most illustrious glow on her son’s face,

As the desires of the previous evening,

Had all dissipated from his Heart.

Ramona bowed in Gratitude,

That the merits of her life of prayer, had taken root.