Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Once you're here,
I'm sure I'll drown in your love,
your kiss will be like candy,
I won't ever get enough,

Your touch,
Running electricity through my veins,
you're like my drug,
I'm so easily addicted to you,

Hold my heart,  
It's beating for you anyway,

Your love,
is like life support,
keeping me alive,
and if thats the case,
I know I'll survive.
 Aug 2012 Kasandra Curtis
Janette
A whisper-touch of silk kissing darkness,
A misty haze of paradise, beneath the moon's bathe...


I drift upon his fragrance... lashes bathed in shadows, meeting the hand, that slides my arm;
Fingertips that softly brush the curve of my throat;
And he smiles as I tremble; breathing his whispered desire....in
The sweet of first blush,
Where soft rose tipped lips yearn the sweet taste of him,
I am melted, a whimper-ache
Unraveled
Tumbling into the still of cherish,
Naked under brown eyes deepening, to dark...




My Love,
Expel this breath from my breast,
The breath that was born to inhale your smile,
Translate my body in a braille of your hands,
As I place your fingertips deep in the wet of me,
Slowly moving them across your lips,
Fill me with the breadth of your rhythm;
And coax this purr from the back of my throat,
Slide across these aching *******, your weep-wild ecstasy,
Pulsing deep in vibrant ripples, quivering in the dark, where
My blush beckons your tongue-brush... sheathe me in wet satin ribbons;
As I take you inside, so deep within the intoxication,
Lost in the caress of fingers on skin,
Hands in my hair,
Quiver-claim me,
Taste me
Where the red rose of ecstasy opens her petals to the white moon,
Deep in devoured tender,
Where the rain of something deeper,
Swallows exploration in hollow breaths...



My supple body, an ****** garden of velvet blossoms,
Opening slowly beneath the heated shore of your desire,
Splashed in a gasp of sighs, absorbed in a destiny of shivers,
Arced with unashamed yearn,
As fire bursts once again into soaring flames... the pulse
Of such arrhythmia, timing the beats within my rise and descent;
Bleeding each tender vein along unforgiving rapture;
I bathe in crystal clear waters
Pure as the divine currents we share, drowning so softly in your love;
Primal needs lay me in sweet fields of surrender, as
Midnight plunges into the worship of a passion-breathed breeze
Wielding the strand of flame against silk, lost in the soft,
Precious wind-song of heartbeats, casting shadows that dance to unheard music;
A firestorm between finger’s grip, burning untamed, beneath your skin, where my lips play a searing ache;
Sinuously tautened, your swell lays lush inside the meld of my heat,
Rocking hardness buried in velvet;
We shiver....I shiver, and
The wetted flower burns the shatters of night...



Skin upon skin in the smokey timbre of dripping wishes,
Synergies meet,
Burning dark, sharing breath...
We discover the flame of eternal burn, the promise of always
Across the shiver of yearn, where touches never end,
Where the breath of your heart scatters across my breast,
Where I lay before the blaze of your beautiful tender, finger painting shaded desire,
Along the curve of my thighs.....the cells of my spellbound body
Drenched in the poetry of your rain,
Tasting bonds with flowering tongues;
Joined in this most sacred act,
The merging of souls;
The taste of US, forever feeding your heart and mine;
Pushing deep against nectar's flow, like rainbows stained in milk;
Where thoughts are tethered in searing embrace.........
Forever awaits beyond the want in our eyes.....  knowing you write my last breath, beginning to end..... turning pages of gentle complete.....folding warmth one touch at a time......WE are all we will know when the last sunset whispers this love from my soul, beckoning to feel your embrace, until the end of time........

when the last verse closes the chapter of US... J
At whiles (yea oftentimes) I muse over
The quality of anguish that is mine
Through Love: then pity makes my voice to pine
Saying, 'Is any else thus, anywhere?'
Love smileth me, whose strength is ill to bear;
So that of all my life is left no sigh
Except one thought; and that, because 'tis thine,
Leaves not the body but abideth there.
And then if I, whom other aid forsook,
Would aid myself, and innocent of art
Would fain have sight of thee as a last hope,
No sooner do I lift mine eyes to look
Than the blood seems as shaken from my heart,
And all my pulses beat at once and stop.
Hail to thee, blithe Spirit!
Bird thou never wert,
That from heaven, or near it,
Pourest thy full heart
In profuse strains of unpremeditated art.

Higher still and higher
From the earth thou springest
Like a cloud of fire;
The blue deep thou wingest,
And singing still dost soar, and soaring ever singest.

In the golden lightning
Of the sunken sun,
O’er which clouds are bright’ning,
Thou dost float and run,
Like an unbodied joy whose race is just begun.

The pale purple even
Melts around thy flight;
Like a star of heaven
In the broad daylight
Thou art unseen, but yet I hear thy shrill delight—

Keen as are the arrows
Of that silver sphere
Whose intense lamp narrows
In the white dawn clear
Until we hardly see—we feel that it is there.

All the earth and air
With thy voice is loud,
As, when night is bare,
From one lonely cloud
The moon rains out her beams, and heaven is overflowed.

What thou art we know not;
What is most like thee?
From rainbow clouds there flow not
Drops so bright to see
As from thy presence showers a rain of melody.

Like a poet hidden
In the light of thought,
Singing hymns unbidden,
Till the world is wrought
To sympathy with hopes and fears it heeded not:

Like a high-born maiden
In a palace tower,
Soothing her love-laden
Soul in secret hour
With music sweet as love, which overflows her bower:

Like a glow-worm golden
In a dell of dew,
Scattering unbeholden
Its aerial hue
Among the flowers and grass, which screen it from the view:

Like a rose embowered
In its own green leaves,
By warm winds deflowered,
Till the scent it gives
Makes faint with too much sweet these heavy-winged thieves:

Sound of vernal showers
On the twinkling grass,
Rain-awakened flowers,
All that ever was
Joyous, and clear, and fresh, thy music doth surpass.

Teach us, sprite or bird,
What sweet thoughts are thine:
I have never heard
Praise of love or wine
That panted forth a flood of rapture so divine.

Chorus hymeneal
Or triumphal chaunt
Matched with thine would be all
But an empty vaunt—
A thing wherein we feel there is some hidden want.

What objects are the fountains
Of thy happy strain?
What fields, or waves, or mountains?
What shapes of sky or plain?
What love of thine own kind? what ignorance of pain?

With thy clear keen joyance
Languor cannot be:
Shadow of annoyance
Never came near thee:
Thou lovest, but ne’er knew love’s sad satiety.

Waking or asleep,
Thou of death must deem
Things more true and deep
Than we mortals dream,
Or how could thy notes flow in such a crystal stream?

We look before and after,
And pine for what is not:
Our sincerest laughter
With some pain is fraught;
Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought.

Yet if we could scorn
Hate, and pride, and fear;
If we were things born
Not to shed a tear,
I know not how thy joy we ever should come near.

Better than all measures
Of delightful sound,
Better than all treasures
That in books are found,
Thy skill to poet were, thou scorner of the ground!

Teach me half the gladness
That thy brain must know,
Such harmonious madness
From my lips would flow
The world should listen then, as I am listening now!
Forever Faithful
to you, my dear friend.
I promise to cherish
each moment we spend.
 
I’ll always be grateful
you extended your hand.
Disbelieving, I took it,
and now here I stand
 
We know the secret;
the reason we live.
Not for wealth or prestige,
but for love that you give.
 
Forever I’m yours,
and I know you’re mine.
Together we pray,
as our hearts intertwine.
I wrote this for my boyfriend and I hope to incorporate it into our wedding someday.
He played me in melodic song
knowing how I longed to hear
and feel his kissed breath;
whispering in my ear.

Like drizzled tendrils of rain,
washing against my trebling
frame, it was insane as he
refrained from causing this
heart of mine any pain.

Playing me, striking each chord
as a strummed tune; soothing
any sorrows, lost in broken
tomorrows; still whispering his
yearning want of me in measured
scores.

Caressing my soul as if, a
maestro leading his orchestra,
crescendoeing like trembling
limbs teased in hunger.

Splayed, awaiting his baton of
passion like a bee hovering to
taste its honey, giving pleasured
sonnets entwined within sweet
poetry.

Still playing me as his sweetest
melody.
Crepuscular rays
Gloam with licks of scarlet shades
Eventide awaits
The silent dusky waters
To serenade moonlit eyes




©Jon London 2011
Copyscape Protected
Next page