Alas! Cupid
Laziness doesn't suit you
Do something,will you?
Seek the universe
To find my soulmate
Lose yourself if you must
Valentines comes and goes as he pleases
He is bored with my singleness
What now Cupid?
Your arrow must be bitter
I'll write you a honeyed haiku
I'll write you a sweet sonnet
To refuel your magic
Then you'll find love for me

Some guys just want you for ***
And I can see that
But I really think that would be doing you an injustice
I want to know the real you
And who knows, maybe a relationship
Take it to a higher level
Who knows, we could be forever young
What do you think.

That’s quite good Paul,I mean, compared to last week's effort anyway.

Was last week’s bad.

Let me see now, you’re pulled.

Did that lack substance.

It was sort of to the point.

And that was bad.

Well I did mention it to you the next morning.

Was that in between you’re a crap lover.

You said you could do it all night.

I did do it all night, slept like a baby.

I know, but that wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.

Did I or did I not show you a great time in the morning.

No, you said you had to get a run in.

I know, but after that, were you or were you not screaming.

Are you surprised, there was blood everywhere, thought somebody had attacked you. how was I to know you fell down a hill.

After that, did you not say it was out of this world.

I could have said anything, I was still traumatised.

I’m not surprised your husband doesn’t understand you. You staying at your sisters by the way.

No, she’s at mines.

Did you two read the marriage contract. I mean, I’m not religious or anything, but I think the Priest would be a little concerned about your infidelity.

Have you met father Tom.

Don’t think so.

You have, he was the guy giving you *** tips.

Was that him, he was brilliant, told me all the things that turned you on.

****** great, you get the advice, I get the Hail Marys.

There's something beyond
You perfectly balanced body
Beautifully curving lips
And those kind eyes
Indeed
There is something beyond
Your well trained abbs
Your arms that invite an embrace
And perfectly shaped strong posture

There's something beyond
The way you look
That makes me want to
Peel your clothes off
And run my tongue
All over all of you
It's not the cylindrical shape
That according to statistics
In my animal brain
Should be as impressive as you

That's not it
However pleasurable it might be
But there is something within you
That makes me want to
Test your limits
In the kindest and softest way
To explore your body
And hopefully impress you too
It is within my ***** mind
Where I realise all the things
I'd love to do on to you

On to you
On top of you
Below you
On my knees
On your knees
On my hands and knees

You get the picture

You don't get to hurt me and then judge the way I respond.

Sometimes words speak themselves
Sometimes hands move on their own
Sometimes, just sometimes, ideas leap to life
And they do it all alone

That’s the magic of a muse
When the world is colors and words
And not clouds and rainy days
But sunshine and happy little birds

And you sing write me write me
Well okay if you insist
But if you insist so vehemently
I must insist on this

Let me write you as I write you
Please, do not complain
For while muse may not come easy
Success is even harder to obtain

Not every word is perfect
In fact, most are not
But please do not begrudge me
It may be harder than you thought

To take your inspiration
And turn it into gold…
Don’t worry, I’ll be quiet now
And do as I am told

"OVERWHELMED!", for lack of a better word. At 7:30am(CDT), my piece "For My HP Friends(response to Eliot York),  reached an altitude 5k 'reads/hits. Although the piece was penned in 2013, I mean every word written as I did then.
But, this isn't about me, it's about "you", all of the poets, writers, young/old, newcomers, and mainstays. It is for those who have passed away(God bless you), or have moved to another site(we hope you will return, at least I do.) It is for all who enjoy what we do, or think we do, best; writing about our deepest thoughts; what makes us laugh, what makes us cry, coping with adversity. It's about "living", learning of different cultures, visiting with words, places where we may never go, realizing that regardless of where we live, we are very much the same in thought and deed, discovering the common denominators between all of us. It's about "lending an ear", doing our best to comfort, strengthening a "family", which HP has developed overtime.
Without "YOU", this piece would never have never been written. Although my name is on it, it contains the  signatures of each and everyone of, "YOU!"
I will be forever, grateful.

Richard Riddle, February 07, 2016

My heart is a boiling cauldron stewing with
A pinch of kindness,
A sprinkling of hope,
A dash of hate,
A gram of generosity,
A dram of charity,
A tablespoon of despair,
A measure of temperance,
A teaspoon of patience,
And a shake of faith.
Now, simmering on the element,
I can ladle out bowls of love.