The moon has turned his dark on me.
But I still beg to use his pale eyes
fetching the last glimpses of desire.
And even if you no longer care for
my morning kisses on your thighs
and my moonlight caresses in the night.
I still need to feel
the thrumming harmony
of you slipping inside my shields.
How deeply you’ve plunged into
the inner core of me.
Perfect fit and yet
a distant hologram of
a lover held in my dreams alone.

I’ll never be fulfilled.
unless I forget your splendor.
You shine, like no other.
Your bright was my ultimate high.
And within all my incapable
and impotent denial.
I did try to rub away
the golden fingerprints of you.
But now I’ve come to despair
that they will ever disappear.

I know you can stimulate me with your hands
that's easy....:)
Now I want to see what you can do to my mind
Let's have a stimulating conversation
****** me with your words
Tease me with some ****** poetry
Sing to me a song from your heart
Tell me what you want to do to me....
Be VERY descriptive
Take your time with me ~let it last a little longer
The bond between us will only grow stronger

I'm fine
I'm not a beauty queen
I'm just a normal woman
I'm a good person
I'm honest.

Yes I've got a boyfriend again
That's why I haven't talked to my friends
I talk to him when I can
I know what type of woman I am
I know what I can do and it's for my boyfriend
I am not with him at this moment
I have not done anything yet; He is overseas.

That's like right now I live with my ex-love
and he doesn't get what he wants.
He also wants to remarry me that ain't going to happen.
I know he loves me again but I just can't!
I don't love him.

We were married before it, ain't like he never seen me before
I don't do that with every guy just him
We started dating when I was 13
I had made love in 15 with my ex-love.

He was my first love first everything
And my first heartbreak and the first person to smash my heart
He smashed my heart that night!
He's broken my heart into pieces
He is the reason why I won't love again

But we share the only bed in the place
That's not a good thing especially when I live with him
There is no couch or another bed in his place
We sleep in the same bed. We don't do anything
Yea I do, that's when I want
If he had it his way he would never go without it
Like I said that's not much, I don't love him.

That's a long story and a very hurtful story
I don't tell people my life stories from him using them against me
I don't trust men as far as I can throw
The only friends I tell are close to me or they are important to me
My boyfriend knows that that's all who needs to know
I don't let people in my world that's how I stay safe from men.

Every guy that I left always wants me back
That's what they want, and what they get is different
That’s my life story.

When  you  are  young.
The  village  seems  only
one  field  away.
You  can  skip  it  in  no  time.

Middle  aged  it  feels
two  fields  away.
And  is  getting  a  bit  
of  a  bore.

When  you  are  old
it  seems  like  three  fields
Almost  Impossible  to  walk.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK.  2017.

I don't like that picture framed,
Looking from my shelf;
You're no longer like that,
No longer you're yourself.
I don't like your smiling eyes,
I don't like your hair,
I don't like the way you look,
I don't like you there.
I had plenty,
I was twenty,
A life ahead of me;
I don't like your picture there,
Looking down on me.

I'll place a new shot on the shelf,
A recent picture of one's self,
Mirroring pangs of time,
The heartaches that are mine.
A picture of an aged-worn man,
A head that droops,
Shoulders stooped,
A face laced with worry lines,
A wry smile covering crimes;
A still life and a pantomime.
I don't like that picture there,
When I was in my prime.

The moon and all the stars
Know how hard I tried
Though you never will
Only the sun and sky
Know my sorrow
Because I keep it to myself

As images and hopes fade
And dreams turn to black and white
The story will always be fresh
Within the heart of me

There are those who know me
And those who think they do
But no-one knows my pain
My own precious secret

                                   By Phil Roberts