"sumptous" poems
Sitting there in that lighthouse,
trying to fall asleep was he.
His duty time was over and,
now was the time to sleep,
to go on...
But still the fear of fire
torments him,
day and night.
He doesn't dream,
but lives through each nightmare.
The love of his loved ones, faraway,
sheltered from the noisy waves of the sea,
from the salt laden breeze.
His proffession,
had the pleasures,
of being close to the sea;
the pains of separation;and
the nasty accusations of the cruel waters.
But alas he was a poor man.
His bowl of soup was his job.
His wife is ill,
with money and her cure,
he stood atop the intimidating lighthouse.
His children cannot but lick their lips,
at the sight of a sumptous banquet, their ultimate fantasy.
As the evening of his life draws closer,
what can he do, than fall asleep,
when his heart beats no more.
Jul 3, 2011
Jul 3, 2011 at 11:04 AM UTC
With this mind I hereby wed,
This I do before I'm dead,
In hopes that you will love me, too,
This confirmation I give to you.
In case dear death should be here soon,
I give you the heavens and the sumptous moon,
And pulling down the sky to soon reveal,
That all is fair in loving and hearts to steal.
Your hand so firmly grasped in mind,
Tonight you'll see some magic we find,
We will most definately so melt together,
We'll soar like eagles, birds of a feather.
So, tell dear Mother and Father at home,
You know you'll travel with me alone,
We'll search the world for a place to stay,
The world's our oyster at Oyster Bay.
Then step aside you detractors and fools,
My passion for you, no doubt won't cool,
We'll love like school children of long ago,
Take love so lingering and lasting slow.
May 27, 2012
May 27, 2012 at 10:39 PM UTC
With fickle Freddy Frosts first showing
and the rising of ******* and
limbs fine tactile hairs, laguna,
filaments of sensation *****
quivering and striving
stretching toward a now absent warmth,
she always did have her sunny side showing, bare legs tucked under her
buttocks, leaning back on her hands
under that big Totara tree, face tilting
skyward and sandals kicked aside,
searching out her brighter sunny day
even now, with leaves falling down
the autumnal mix of ambers
Loamy greens and wooded browns
the earth cool and damp underfoot
her naked legs, arms defiant, barely crying for freedom!
Shivered morn's and eve's descend quickly
winters first indicators bringing
a refusal to employ blankets
hope tightly clinging to summers
silk sheets from Portugal,
feather light, soft as air,
just how she likes her thread count
high and expensive, sumptous,
(her pedantic obsession with fine linens)
totally ineffectual as calefactor,
so, she shivers on stubborn as ever,
Stay summer! Stay!
Even her loyal steadfast cicadas
have fallen silent now, summers last guard fallen to shortened days
and longer lonelier cool nights,
it is now she starts to miss a warm body
companionship, a worthy bedfellow
one who will not protest her cold toes
vicious advances on their warmer flesh
The sacrifice well worth the reward
of her warmest, ardent affections
tender embraces and softly spoken
murmurings of love and passion,
her full surrender to your body
with hers, she gives good, good love,
both body and mined soul deep too.
The countdown to clocks pushed onwards
pulls a wustful sigh from blueish lips
she is underdressed, flimsy chiffon
on a day made for heavier cloths
persists with summer daydreaming
of warm strong hands restoring her joy
under cold nights cloaked bed covers,
hot stolen kisses from a winter lover.
J.C. "littlebird" 05/04/2019.
Apr 4, 2019
Apr 4, 2019 at 5:19 PM UTC
she dances,
undulating like a silk scarf in soft wind
her hips
sway in sumptous rhythm like samba
her body
writhes over a canvas of wildflower
traced by a convulsing painter's brush
watch her limbs now float and sail,
graceful as a snake charmed senseless
on its sacred wandering space
they beckon,
like her lips served in sweet dessert
the night leaves nothing to chance
our flesh cavort in urgent beat
primeval
like the throbbing of hearts in a womb
i find her eyes in the sea of humanity
they burrow into a delicious spot in my chest
i feel her deliver its shiver up my sweating spine
and she hears her name
in the silent whisper of my smile
even as i get buried in the crowd
all i hear is her laughter
in the midst of swirling shadows and seizing lights
and it leaves me in drunken longing.
i am but the helpless, hopeless audience of one
she is a shade short
of the greatest show on the dance floor
and a heartbeat too much
for my worshiping cup to hold.
when she dances, i am alive.
Jul 17, 2011
Jul 17, 2011 at 3:12 PM UTC
Glimmered warmth
congealed on the wintry rice.
A sumptous surprise
melting apart the frosty ice.
Twilit timbers
radiated rays of sunny soils.
Rooftop thunders
swirling and softening snowy oils.
Phthalo pastures
engendered the energy of dawn.
Spring's riant arrival
among winter's mix forgone
Jun 18, 2019
Jun 18, 2019 at 2:37 PM UTC