Black Silk presents a poignant collection of humorous and heartfelt pieces of poetry and prose. Author Shay Cook shares witty anecdotes and earnest life messages in an assortment of rhyme and free verse, with words that sway and saunter into the heart. The title references the smooth, luscious feel of silk against skin. Her verse seeks to evoke the same sensations-sumptuous, sensual, soothing, and sinister. Shay's work captures aspects of the human experience, exploring an abundance of topics including love, forgiveness, and grief. Divided into four intimate sections, this collection ventures into the thoughts and emotions of all with poems like "The Pianist" and "An Impatient Winter" Savor the opulence of silk in this new compilation of works past and present. Timeless Standing close I feel the wind against this frigid sky, I kick off my shoes, curl on the couch, with me, myself and I. With lemon tea, a well-read book, I grab my warm afghan, And nestle beneath the crocheted yarn and think about this man who is timeless. Timeless as the autumn leaves which dance upon the foliage. Like summer rain which grows the grain and tulips in the spillage. Like music, like the painter's brush which strokes his work of art, As Beethoven and Chopin who plays upon the heart, this man is timeless...

Black Silk

By Shay Cook

iUniverse, Inc.

Copyright © 2012 Shay Cook
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4759-4059-6

Contents

Forward..............................xiiiPreface..............................xvAcknowledgements.....................xvii... Sumptuous........................1... Sensual..........................29... Soothing.........................53... Sinister.........................81About the Poet.......................109

Chapter One

... Sumptuous

Continuously you cloak yourself and sneak inside my poems. I pretend not to notice thoughts of you incessantly.

    The Pianist


    The notes were playful and plentiful,
    Spinning and spiraling on the crisp, clear waves of air,
    And they were alluring.
    They hovered and danced and bowed,
    Then flipped themselves over and upward.
    Leaning forward I caught the scent of the love songs as they flew by,
    And was filled with joy and delight as the notes grew wings.
    Like birds of the air they carried the matter of love straight into my heart
    Leaving me faint and weak.
    While I stood helpless the pianist juggled each note with his fingers,
    Tossed them into the night air with abandon,
    Then flung them at me with full force.
    I staggered drunk and intoxicated in the aroma of the love songs
    While the pianist looked on satisfied.
    That pianist was ruthless.
    I shall return to him again!


    Beautiful


    I am the height of the pine tree.
    I am crab apple blossoms pirouetting their leaves,
    Frosty wind howling through naked willow trees—beautiful.
    I am hyacinth moist with June's new rain,
    Sleeping Blue Mountains stretching their veins,
    Moonlight floating across milky white fields,
    I am women in high heels—beautiful.

    Beautiful as the aroma of potent perfume,
    As the certainty of my steps as I enter the room is beautiful.
    Like the stallion in his majesty and hoofs,
    As soft as summer rain hitting against tin roofs is beautiful.
    Beautiful as winter silhouetted against time,
    Beautiful as life sublime,
    As a new born cooing,
    As romance and wooing,
    As sweet and smooth as butter soft kisses,
    And hopeful wishes are beautiful.

    I am white diamonds, black pearls,
    Daddy's baby, mama's girl,
    I am the fresh sap on a wet dew morning,
    The fiery sunset at evening tide,
    I am the arms you run into,
    And the peace you find there when they are open wide to you.
    I am the place you lodge and the warmth you wrap yourself in,
    I am the listening ear and the calm of a gentle friend.
    I am full enough to hold your dreams and pain,
    And empty enough to fill you up again.
    I am enough in all you see,
    I am all you need and all I need to be—beautiful.


    He's A Man


    Look at him gently lying there,
    Caramel skin, silky smooth hair,
    My heart is in his hands for safe keeping,
    Prayer is in his soul while he's sleeping,
    He's a man!

    He's a hard-working, loving, caring,
    Soft-spoken, never swearing,
    Kind-hearted, giving, sharing,
    Good-looking, blue jean-wearing man.

    He's a root beer drinking, chocolate eating,
    One woman, never cheating man.
    The only cheating that he does,
    Is from Sunday church and that's because,
    He's plowing the fields, shucking the corn,
    Feeding the baby calves that are born.
    He's a man!

    He's a hard-working, loving, caring,
    Soft-spoken, never swearing,
    Kind-hearted, giving, sharing,
    Good-looking, blue-jean wearing man!


    David


    Yesterday, a year ago, today, I forget, I bumped into David.
    There I was standing on the corner of Tenth and Elm,
    My thoughts on a million things to do and light years away from David
    When he surfaced on the sidewalk,
    Breath swirling hot circles against my shoulders.
    He was still beautiful—olive skin, gray flecks of hair, statuesque,
    Hovering over me like the skyscrapers surrounding the downtown hub.
    He touched me on my elbow with the crispness of snow,
    The residue from his fingers dripping with poetry,
    Memorable, familiar, recognizable, proverbial.
    Then as quickly as he surfaced he disappeared into the crowd,
    Leaving me alone with once upon a time and my fingers in my face,
    Tracing my lips, wiping my tears, and remembering yesterday,
    A year ago, today, I forget.


    A Small Still Place


    There is a small, still place inside of me,
    That is mine and mine alone,
    For the safe keeping of my dreams,
    For the centering of my soul.
    For the rebel, defiant woman mounted on the wild, untamed horse,
    Riding the stallion fast for all he is worth.
    Airborne atop his strong frame of muscles and power,
    I hold the stallion firm as I dare against the wind.
    Dust in my face,
    Courage in my eyes,
    Grit on my teeth,
    My legs against his strides,
    Unruly blood gushing through my veins,
    While he kicks and bucks and jolts and gallops and all that remains,
    Is the power of my resistance.
    I hold him fast,
...