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Cné Mar 2018
I smell the air
and taste the breeze.
I sense a presence there;
a kindred spirit next to me
that hovers everywhere.
Mused by Jeff Gaines, as my conscience
Cné Mar 2018
I treasure those nights of unexpected surrender
when hands molded
caressed
and made me tremble
waking from slumber with body afire
as he inched gradually into me
bathed in my welcoming heat
one palm curled protectively
'round the weight of my breast
as finger and thumb drew on beaded peak
and breath caught in my throat
as his full depth was reached
unable to remain still
rocking back to achieve a deeper sink
his sudden hiss scalding my neck
teeth worrying my bottom lip
neither willing to move
afraid it would all end too soon
and as the flames continued to rise
groans replaced whispered sighs
no hurried pace or rapid ******
slow and sensual movements
dragging us ever nearer the edge
denying that final release
drawing closer but holding it back
sensation heightened beyond bearing
until that fraying tether breaks
causing walls to tighten and quake
drinking every last drop of his lust
clutching inside and out
desperately seeking his mouth
sealing the cataclysmic moment
heart pressed to heart
breath to breath
Cné Mar 2018
a ******* the beach
watching the shimmering waves
is kissed by the sun
Cné Mar 2018

Upon a nice mid-spring day,
I take a look at Nature's way.

And breathe the scent of nice fresh air,
Feeling the breeze within my hair.

The grass pokes between my toes,
As I smell the flowers with my nose.

Clouds form shapes within the skies,
As light glistens from my eyes.

I hear the buzzing of the bees,
That climb the tallest willow trees.

I look across the meadow way,
And see a young deer at its play.

I pick the daisies as they grow,
And watch a gentle cold stream flow.

I hear the sounds of water splash,
And catch its glimmer in a flash.

When altogether it all seems sound,
I lay myself upon the ground.

To take a moment to inhale,
And listen to Nature tell her tale...

Cné Mar 2018
A leprechaun told me, “I hear
It’s riches you’d like to appear.
Since I don’t exist,
My *** of gold’s mist —
You’d better keep writing, my dear!”
Cné Mar 2018
She met him south of the border in Durango,
She was hot and boy could she fandango!
She said at a glance
"Señor like to dance?"
“No”, he replied, “But I would love to tango!”
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