French antique embroidered lace panel draped over a screen and Napoleon III papier-mache chair.
For Poetry Thursday, recollections of a long-ago sultry summer fever:
It's only a fever, I tell myself.
It will pass, this fire of longing
that has me firmly in its grip.
I will forget the words of love
you whisper in my ear
and the poetry you write
across my heart,
tracing the words on my body
as I tremble with desire.
I won't remember these sensations
consuming me with passion,
making sleep impossible.
Soon it all will be a distant dream:
it's only a fever, after all
or possibly delirium.
Fever either burns itself out
or its victim succumbs.
Nice. You had me at fever...I succumb.
Posted by: A.E. Roman | 01 July 2007 at 08:08
So happy I can finally post a comment! Amazing Miss Tara....this could be said for many of us...passion, illness, or flushing! Really stirs the senses! Which is it I wonder? Hmmm …I’ll settle on love! But it’s probably the flu!
Hugs my dear
Giggles
Posted by: giggles | 30 June 2007 at 08:31
Wow! by the number of responses this sensational, sensual piece has really hit the spot!! We'll be calling you the next Anais if you keep up this heat.....
Posted by: Michelle saleeba | 30 June 2007 at 07:14
I could sit on that chair all day just looking at that gorgeous lace.
Posted by: Di Overton | 29 June 2007 at 18:31
I love it when your poetic voice shines ... brilliant dear Tara. xx, JP
Posted by: JanePoe (aka Deborah) | 29 June 2007 at 16:48
A Hot One!
and beautiful too.
Posted by: rochambeau | 29 June 2007 at 13:40
The lace photo looks lovely and cool, a beautiful contrast to the sultry heat of the poem
Posted by: Catherine | 29 June 2007 at 10:51
Oh Tara,
I'm fanning myself. Nicely done. Your poem evokes vivid memories. Love the Fr. visual accompaniment.
Posted by: GeL(Emerald Eyes) | 29 June 2007 at 10:48
Very nice looking lace. And I loved the fever poem, and how you weaved in poetry in to it!
Posted by: Sanjay | 29 June 2007 at 10:25
Hot, hot, hot! This made me think of the Peggy Lee standard - I had that tune going through my head while I read it. Love the photo, too.
xo
Posted by: tinker | 29 June 2007 at 08:34
Wonderful poem!
-- f
Posted by: Footpad | 29 June 2007 at 07:30
This is so sultry and romantic; you made the longing very tangible!
Posted by: chicklegirl | 29 June 2007 at 05:18
This poem is one of my favourites so far!!!!
Tara, that lace and chair is absolutely devine!!!!!
I dropped you an e-mail about the packages...
(:)
Posted by: Gypsy Purple-Chamara | 29 June 2007 at 05:17
Nice and sexy! And the line "it's only a fever, after all, or possibly delirium" is brilliant. Beautiful photo, too.
Posted by: Clare | 29 June 2007 at 04:35
Summer, heat, passion, fire -- it's all there, intertwined and delicious. There's an interesting tension of intimacy and distance in the poem that you effectively put underneath as a basis. I had to read this a few times to identify these glimpses I was picking up on; each time I read it, some new layer revealed itself. Wow. Very skillfully done and powerful.
Posted by: KG | 29 June 2007 at 04:24
Talented, photography and prose.
Posted by: robyn | 29 June 2007 at 04:14
This gorgeous love poem should be read while languishing on silk sheets covered with roses and eating dark chocolates and...well, use your imagination ;)
Marvelously, stunningly, romantic!
Posted by: Becca | 29 June 2007 at 03:09
The last stanza is especially perfect.
Posted by: ...deb | 29 June 2007 at 02:06
This is so wise, really, about passion--the thing from experience, and the economy of the poem works so well, such a small container for something so big, combustible, and consuming.
Posted by: Jim | 29 June 2007 at 00:46
Tara,
I thought I commented here early this morn. Like I was number 2. Oh well some times age causes a brain fark and I didn't follow all the required steps. So here is the jist of what I posted earlier.
Lace and gold, and a romantic interlude remembered as if it were yesterday. There can be no greater inspiration for poetry.
rel
Posted by: rel | 29 June 2007 at 00:06
Wowey oooo lala. I almost telephoned a lover.... DO I even have a lover? hehehhe. Burnout.... Burnout is strange... When the butterflies subside.... Falling, hard too, it tough... As the fantasy becomes reality... It can be good, it can be ruined.... xxo,V
Posted by: Vanessa V | 28 June 2007 at 23:05
Oooo, nice! I especially love the last stanza--I feel like it adds a new element.
Posted by: split ends | 28 June 2007 at 20:02
ooooh! i like the images i get in my head from reading this poem. :)
Posted by: chocolate covered musings | 28 June 2007 at 19:13
It's hot over here! You did an amazing job of expressing passion too hot to believe. "Victim succumbs" Yes! XXOO
Posted by: Tammy | 28 June 2007 at 18:42
Ooh la la... Tara... I need to catch the breath I've been holding -- and get a drink of water! deliciously scorching... ;)
Posted by: Rob Kistner | 28 June 2007 at 18:41
WOnderful post--the poem and the picture!
Posted by: pepektheassassin | 28 June 2007 at 18:28
As long as we can remember that fever...I've been in its grip and it's both agony and ecstacy, isn't it?
Posted by: Pauline Clarke | 28 June 2007 at 17:15
It burns in feverish love and passion! Subtle too..
Posted by: gautami | 28 June 2007 at 16:55
Yes...this is a perfect summer offering--and that photo has such a story to tell! I am beginning a bit of a summer hiatus, so I hope you spend the rest of yours with beautiful words and things like these...
Love,
D.
Posted by: Delia | 28 June 2007 at 16:44
Sexy poem and more! It reminds me of that eternal teen who seems to want to live in my mind and remind me of how important such things were/are. A universal touch point is what it hits. Good work.
Posted by: Mary Timme | 28 June 2007 at 15:59
Oh, love is like this... so wonderful and so brutal at the same time... a fever indeed...
Well done as usual, Tara!
Posted by: Regina Clare Jane | 28 June 2007 at 15:58
Love the lace! Beautiful!
The poem? Oh my…very steamy!!...I think I have a fever just reading it! :-)
Posted by: Dee | 28 June 2007 at 15:54
I love it. Makes me think of romantic love in the 1700's.
Posted by: Christina | 28 June 2007 at 14:43
Mmmmmmmm... a delicious poem about feverish love!
Posted by: Hedwyg | 28 June 2007 at 14:28
beautiful lace tara and the napoleonIII papier maché is stunning. fever (in this specific case)can be controlled by proper handling. i've done it before and works fine for me ;)
Posted by: marita | 28 June 2007 at 13:15