I treasure those nights of unexpected surrender
when hands molded
caressed
and made me tremble
waking from slumber with body afire
as he inched gradually into me
bathed in my welcoming heat
one palm curled protectively
'round the weight of my breast
as finger and thumb drew on beaded peak
and breath caught in my throat
as his full depth was reached
unable to remain still
rocking back to achieve a deeper sink
his sudden hiss scalding my neck
teeth worrying my bottom lip
neither willing to move
afraid it would all end too soon
and as the flames continued to rise
groans replaced whispered sighs
no hurried pace or rapid ******
slow and sensual movements
dragging us ever nearer the edge
denying that final release
drawing closer but holding it back
sensation heightened beyond bearing
until that fraying tether breaks
causing walls to tighten and quake
drinking every last drop of his lust
clutching inside and out
desperately seeking his mouth
sealing the cataclysmic moment
heart pressed to heart
breath to breath

Upon a nice mid-spring day,
I take a look at Nature's way.

And breathe the scent of nice fresh air,
Feeling the breeze within my hair.

The grass pokes between my toes,
As I smell the flowers with my nose.

Clouds form shapes within the skies,
As light glistens from my eyes.

I hear the buzzing of the bees,
That climb the tallest willow trees.

I look across the meadow way,
And see a young deer at its play.

I pick the daisies as they grow,
And watch a gentle cold stream flow.

I hear the sounds of water splash,
And catch its glimmer in a flash.

When altogether it all seems sound,
I lay myself upon the ground.

To take a moment to inhale,
And listen to Nature tell her tale...

She painted a picture
Of a whisper
It was colorblind
And void of any texture
She hung it on my inner ear
And I heard it speak a thousand words
In secret
I replied with my eyes
And she read what was inside
As we remained
Speechless

Good night my love
Alone I lay
The heart grows heaver
With the end of day
A wandering mind
In a maze of rhymes
Gathering poetry
From vanished times
Lovers eyes
Slit the night
A poetic mind
Possesses sight
To see the wrong
In an artistic light
Where the beauty
Of pain sadly ignites
And there a spark
In the dread of dreams
A mirror reflection
Of what could have been
While alone I lay
In my dark room
Rocking and a rolling
And a howling
At the moon
...........................