For the writer,
for the poet,
acts of love
fall short.
They know the
best way
to express
the words:
I love you,
is in print  
right  here
on the page.

TOBIAS

I think on you when the dark hours arise,
You appear before me, invoking Paradise,
arousing  Eros the whole night through:
moonglow revealing our passions so true.

Slowly, scenes I dreamed of appear as real,
desires tempt my thoughts but cannot steal
your arms  drawing  my body close to yours.
Fantasy's keys unlock Venus's secret doors.

A healing tenderness flows from your hands,
complete is my submission to Love's demands;
Your sweet breath on my face is a sealing kiss,
O, what ecstasies we enjoy in hours of bliss!

No sense of guilt intrudes, it lacks the power
to deny this rapture, or vandalize each hour;
so we revel in rhapsody - 'til dawn opens its door
to let daytime sun rays  awaken us once more.

TOBIAS

Such bliss of delights:
those sacred nights
in the all together.
How we exposed  
ourselves indeed.
We took, we gave;
swept away by Eros
on sensual tides of
ardour’s ebb and flow.

I, surging upwards,
onward, inwards,
plunging down into
desire’s *******
foaming waves.
You, urging me on,
drawing me deep
into intimate inlets
of Venus’s ectasies.

TOBIAS

Whatever the weather
calm, windy or cool
cats and dogs
I fall for you..
dew drenched
like lightening
like rain storms  
snow showers
hail splashed
sleet slashed
blazing sunshine.
tanga untangled..
..so climactically.

TOBIAS

There is an empty place
in my heart: one thing
is all I need you to do,
it is to fill that space
by inserting into it
your love.

TOBIAS

When you wish to pray to God
find a church: enter, seek a
quiet place, talk to God.
You may even feel
a  Call from God...

...though unlikely
to be received
on your mobile.

For the sake of
quiet for others
turn off your phone.

However, If you wish
to see God outside
the church - send
a text  while
you are driving.

Tobias

Now I was young and easy. Led
entranced under plum tree blossoms
drifting along the sloping drive
to white-washed walled Stud Farm.
This ecstasy of being cool pig-pink
sunk happy in a mud brown wallow.
    
Then I was bold and carefree,
working among the barns
busy about the happy yard
on the farm that was home.
Young once only, in my kingdom
as Time let me live my dreams.
    
It carried me over and over again
in daytime walking or running,
it was lovely, the sweet scents:
fragrant hay field’s cut grass
and herbage fully sun dried.

Or, I pedalled in evenings
led by bicycle-dynamo-beamed
light under the stars to sleep.
Above me the barn owls were
claiming skies of swallows clear.
Coppice hooting in preludes,
there bats about soon flitted
where  tiny glow worms flickered.

Then to dawn awake: the farm,
mist-shrouded as a roamer white
dew cloaked, returning to hear
****’s crowing from hen coops
black cawing crows in the trees.

Glimpsing the same clear sky
changed from yesterday
into today’s white and blue.
The same sun but born again.
The distant church bells ringing.

Nothing I cared for more
than pink piglets new born,
just meadow-birthed lambs
and black and white calves
that would take up my time:
to hold me to the farm forever
released from orphanage hold.

Oh! I was so young and easy.
In the mercy of its means,
Time held me as I was flying
while I threw off captive
chains - at last unshackled - free.

Tobias