Sat astride my iron horse, rumbling as it were
Twisting her horns, just a bit more
Hear her growl and roar
Eating miles, gliding ashore, black tarmac, paths unsure
Curling along snaking roads, blazing down the lines
Ambling through greens and moors, nature is sublime
Sun warming my body, wind settling my troubled soul
Gladdening this weary heart, my much beloved Virago

Flickering images on the screen
watching us writhe.
Just our skin between
aching, begging, longing
for your touch.
Gasping my need, reaching
across the glass partition
only to be met by frustration.
Look, but do not touch.
Enjoy the view, no hesitation.
This skin hungers for your caress
and waiting seems far too long.
Patience promises some distant success.
Playing with my inner self
imagining your powerful warmth around
my body, only to be bound myself.
Loving you and wanting you
holding my tongue, screaming for you.
Alone in my bed, alone in my head.
All this pleasure, all this pain.
Is what I feel all in vain?

Your hands glide down me
and feather my skin
as your lips dust my neck
and imprint pleasure.
Aching for your touch,
you play me
like a high strung violin
I sigh my desire
as you draw me across
your silken skin.
Sliding down you,
riding on you,
I scream your name
as I come
again and again.
I want you so much
I need your touch.
Take me again  lover
and lets sink into each other.

Gazing out of the glass window
in a home
that's finally, mine.

Peace at last;
creeping in,
slowly but inexorably,
longed for, in time
which made my bones ache,
with weariness.

All mine, all mine.

A dream of solitude,
of life which is full
of new and old possibilities.

All mine, all mine.

Happiness,
in all its glory,
brief but savoured,
for all the pleasure
that can be had.

Content, yes I am.

Free, to feel,
the ache of new love,
to laugh, to run
across a heath,
heady is this taste
of freedom.

Ached for, longed for.

Those dark days
are over, are done.
Here I stand.
The wind in my face.
Looking forward,glancing behind.
This rain of joy,
slamming in as I turn

to run, run, run.

These bright days of summer.
This heated sun in my heart.
The warmth in my soul.
as I shine, I glow.

Happy, I am happy.

Quietness reigns
this golden morning,
ensconced in my glass tower.

All around on the ground
below these eyes,
the world crawls.

Like beetles,
almost,
in my power.

This moment in time
sonorous in its silence
seemingly tranquil.

I await the oncoming storm,
serene, etiolate
denuded of fear.

Shadows of darkness on parchment clean.
Scratched , inflicted as creation storms in.

Build, dream and see in the black marks
on my formerly pure, etiolated skin.

Play with the words, hide and then seek
me out again as I wait for you to ravage me.

Paint your voice on, I am your palette.
Make me beautiful with your cruel barbs of whim.

The weak sun on my face
mirrors my hearts joy.
The lack of warmth,
the absence of your light.

Suddenly, this is hurting me.

My capacity for pain
lessens day by day.
This lack of love
erodes the sense of self.

I'm losing against these waves.

Despair , loneliness,
the emptiness inside me
filled with the still black
pool of tenebrous rage.

Why don't you love me?
Why don't you want me?