Saturday, August 28, 2010

That Nordic Tempest

That Sexy Nordic Tempest.

Touched the core of my heart

With that steady piercing glare

Of his deep green stare.

I had not the faintest

Idea that this obvious fine art

Of mutual flirting would pair

With his Scandinavian flair.

That my heart he'd arrest

A move rather smart

I'd say, was a clever snare

Of which I was unaware.

He was my conquest

Although a bleeding heart.

Clever bastard! I was his lair

A calculated answer to his prayer

His touch was earnest

My defences he teased apart

He could never refuse a dare

Of a broken person – to repair.

But that familiar Nordic glummest

Will, was crippled in its part

Ambition to fix a pain not rare

And my adoration he did pare

He focused on the farthest

Pain that needed to depart.

He was so bull-headed I swear

He won't listen – I thought he didn't care.

Yet I loved the ginger fur on his chest

And his kisses…oh don't let me start…

I feared my judgement he'd impair

Until logic becomes a past affair.

Our mutual attraction began to divest

For I focused on his faults in part

Looking for something in defence to tear

Before my heart he'd forever ensnare.

I decided to attest

We were slowly breaking apart

We're far from where we were

And now we are an odd pair.

©Naan Pocen

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