- Books, Literature, and Writing
What handheld pen so carefully, so preciously described.
Or did you appear, unfolding from where a hand had thrown,
Almost carelessly, your undulating mysteries?
Softest curves and sweet filaments spill out to ensnare;
A hundred traceries enslave my mind.
Did not the gentlest breeze disturb such sweet silhouettes and contours?
Driving before it those gentle curves and forms;
Each delicate shape across the page from right to left,
To seduce beauty from such sleek and sooty marks,
Unfolding as it went; each black and luscious petal;
Each sharp and tiny dagger; each shadow, as on a sun bleached wall
Of tendril and strands caressed each one himself and his companions.
Each stroke; each breath across the page
Unfolding in delicious curved and coiling stem and leaf;
Foliage; tender seed filled grasses;
Thorny barbs with promise of delicious pain.
My unpractised eye is filled with your beauty;
My brain burns to delve within your meaning.
Are you a million truths held and so displayed
Within the elegance of verses of the Qur’an?
Are you a lover’s note written in perfumed words?
The sweetly fragrant words of a lover’s fevered mind?
The apothecary’s recipe for the thousand minor stings
And dagger thrusts of night’s marauding winged hosts?
The remedy for the scorpion’s dark embrace?
Or perhaps a simple list of confections to buy…
Some planned purchases from the bazaar?
Blest, the virgin paper on which you unfold yourself.
O lazy and indolent script; languid silken marks,
Tumbled in lazy ecstasy across the chaste page;
Living lines of delicious thought, a secret to my eye;
Luscious sinuous streams bearing an unknown philosophy.