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Inked Quill Jul 2018
I’m voracious
For his passion
Seeded in
Too deep into me
My parched lips ache
To surround
His growing urgency
My gaze glides
On peachy contours
Of his chiseled body
That naked shrine
Elizabeth Jun 2018
I ate a peach the other day
It was delicious.
It reminded me of a summer day
Or a summer afternoon but,
Something of warm weather and fresh fruit.
Brandon Conway Jun 2018
Fuzzy orb so small and sweet
      Plump succubus plucked by hand
      Orange pink and yellow treat
      To fulfill a hungers toothsome demand  
Demeter's gift, O' how ripe
      Put the flesh between my teeth
      Ears delighted with phoebe's pipe
      Lounged lazily listening in edens wreath

Juice streaming down my face
       Junes comfort, worth more than gold
       Sleep coming to make its dreamy embrace
       Hammock sway, as I slowly cross the threshold
Nothing like laying in the hammock, book in hand with a sweet treat, letting mothers poets drift you off to a slumber.
Kewayne Wadley May 2018
Through many misadventures.
It's you I seek.
Climbing the many stairs that lead me to my goal.
It's never enough.
Through the laterals of vault jumps.
Through the brick and mortar of red paths.
I still see them when I close my eyes.
No matter how terrified I am.
I still make that jump for you.
Finding all the traces you've been.
The worn soles of the many miles I've traveled.
My self put to the side.
 I find the many seeds that we've planted.
Once beautiful, now overgrown to the point that they no longer fit in regular pots.
Without you there's no reason to toil around anymore.
The ghosts of who we use to be wait behind every corner.
Confronting me everytime I turn my back.
Still it's you that I seek.
Finding my own personal hell.
Fire breathing dragon included.
I've tried to hide myself behind my work to no avail.
It follows me everywhere I go.
The inter-workings of my mind.
I've found myself hanging on a string.
Time after time.
Bridges that I've crossed getting from point A to B.
The growth that's essential to make it to the next stage.
The sound of coins no longer entices.
Facing my fears in the hope of reaching you again.
Finding a better me.
The final ax to the head of the fire breathing dragon that guards you closely.
In the end to find that this closet I keep my fears.
Has turned to another castle.
With another dragon.
sunprincess May 2018
Just imagine
if you were an apple
an orange, a banana,
a peach, a pear
All day you could hang
from a tree limb
And no one would care
Unless they were hungry
Salmabanu Hatim Apr 2018
I believe in me,
I like me in the mirror,
I am happy,
I could improve,
I shall try,
I am motivated.
I married into a family where women were treated as dust,
One day we had guests,
My husband slapped me,
Threw things at me,
Then started to abuse me verbally,
He wanted to silence me.
I know my worth,
I was important,not garbage,
I took courage and hit him hard,
Forced him to apologise,
Now he respects me and supports me.
I am powerful.
My mother-in-law too,tried to bully me,
Flung choicest insults at me
Ridiculed me in front of my friends,
No way! I inhaled confidence,
Tossed doubts about my ability out of the window,
Straightened her firmly.
We have peace at last!
I am exuberant.
Allah too,puts you on tests and trials,
I do my utmost to embrace the
By His Grace I manage,
I am energetic and earnest.
To beg and borrow I detest,
We manage to live within my huband's  income.
I am accountable.
I hate envy and jealousy,
I distance myself  from gossips,
Instead I visit the sick and the aged,
I help the widows and orphans,
I am organised.
A smile costs less than electricity,
Mine is contagious,
I have a sense of humour too,
I spread my happiness,
It is my goal,I am ambitious.
I am not perfect,
I make mistakes,
I struggle to overcome them,
I want to make my today a better tomorrow,
I am at peace.
I am the mistress of my own thoughts and emotions.
TD Mar 2018
Calloused palms
and fingertips splayed
below the pensive boughs
of a peach tree.

Sullen reminiscing
and tattered dreams
bound loosely together
in wafer paper.

The crowded rows
and waxen leaves
one root exposed
to a sun that chafes.

A shuddered pause
the tilting spiral
when life collides
with wind and futility.

A silken peach bruises
falling onto a grassy knoll
or into a tin pail.

It may thud or clang
but almost always
tastes the same.
Prompt: I am a collection of dismantled almosts. -Anne Sexton
Kathryn Rose Mar 2018
Don't you dare speak those words.

You know exactly what they will do,
to you,
and to him.

There will be no more
you and him.

Like the peach blossoms
broken from the delicate, young branches,
the verbal hail storm,
the weight of the ice,
will knock him to the frozen ground.

Unsure how much affection he can return,
of how his own whirling thoughts fit with yours.
Your tale, far from fairy, will end.

Your open heart will shrivel,
like the salty sardines you left on the wooden picnic table
in the burning sun.

You will regret your thoughts and
you will regret your feelings,
but know, sadly, there was nothing left to do,
but leave too soon.
cait-cait Mar 2018
i want to touch
your body
like a man in heat —

rub fingers up your legs .
kiss peach butter lips,
and make you

i wasn’t made to be in love ,
i think .
i was made to be
loved :

like a feather, or
a death.

i will run
my entire life.

we bloom in summer.
for Emily.
Bee Feb 2018
E  v  
so often I
like to think back on
that greasy summer- my hidden
lover. Teeth ripping into me like they
were devouring a sticky peach on a patio
near the beach; hungry and so full of desire.
Early eyes quivered as I suffered your satisfied
fingers on my thigh-  feeling the contusions that
replaced my pale pink skin. A felt existence left
devoted in moments like these-our compulsive
wrappings conceal the fortunes that can be
found only in one another. In a way, this
biblical dimension carries a perpetual
forgiveness and passion that play
together hand in hand.
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