A marvel of perfection was Mishal That Saturday I walked in stunned mirth And felt my heart beat like a carnival, A carnival upon the humid earth.
A marvel of desire was her love As lance in hand we waved the waiting crowd. And I surmised it was Brazil that wove her harmonies and beatitudes aloud.
The writhing of the python, the Parrot's call, The draping of her jungle on my frame. The dripping of her moss upon my walls, The ruffle of her jaguar's lusty mane,
All these are thing I always left unsaid. Each time that Mishal came into my bed.
Top answer
Wild and intense. Lovely! Miriam
— Miriam
Wild and intense.
Lovely!
Miriam
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Hi Miram. Thanx for the feedback. I wrote this poem about 25 years ago. I have always been fascinated by the Amazon Jungle and its people. Actually, I tend to imagine survival in that hot humid environment more difficult than in the artcic zone. If given a choice, the arctic zone would win by a very small margin. But to be honest, I would much rather pass them both by.
Hello, Radrook. I've never been to the Amazon Jungle, and I cannot say I find the idea attractive either. Anyway, in my perhaps too personal interpretation of the poem, what appears to be the description of a physical environment is more symbolic than anything. It is, to me, the symbolic representation of intense love and wild ***, beautifully described. The Saturday in the poem,