I opened the little box, excited.
My eyes welled up when it revealed its secret.
Blue diamond sparkle as light touched gently.
You touched me gently; blue eyes sparkling.
My eyes welled up, revealing my secret.
I put the ring back in the box; exited.
A
Forbidden
Passionate affair
Steamy, no-holds-barred rutting
Phew!
The coffee got him wired.
Before he gets too tired,
I will take him to bed.
Before his head
hits the pillow,
I will seduce him
with my willowy frame.
It would be a shame
if he falls asleep,
for then we may
have to wait until
I rouse myself
from dreams so deep.
(Probably around noon –
I’d better get there soon!)
…
…
…
(One hour later)
…
…
…
mission accomplished
🙂
Like the passion flower that, once, appeared to die;
which springs from the ashes of dog-turned soil
to rise again with resilience,
I, too, will rise, as the floral phoenix has arisen –
taking hold of all within my reach –
grasping firm foundations with strong, yet tender, tendrils.
I will bloom; passionately, sweetly; nectar for my soul.
I’ve been playing with words and patterns again. This one is all over the place and no title, or picture, seems to fit. Ergo, I bring you ‘Poopy Face’
You’re appealing to the child in me;
your sense of nonsense ability
makes my sides ache.
Your passion feeds the whore in me;
incensed with full intensity,
makes the earth quake.
The feelings of the woman in me
sense incessant infidelity;
make my heart break.
You restlessly whisper her name while you sleep
And when I weep, you do not see
A reverie carelessly unveils your secret
Tight-shut eyes reveal the lies that play beneath your darkened lashes
The mystery of your passion now bequeathed to me
Wait…
Wait…
Gaze into eyes.
Wait…
Wait…
For burning fires.
Wait…
Wait…
Nothing.
No newborn sparks.
No dying embers.
Wait…
Wait…
No flicker of dilation.
No trickle of elation.
Dark.
Soulless.
Wait…
Wait…
Death of passion.
Your soft mouth closes around mine, full lips swelling as hot passion overwhelms us, both gasping as we inhale each other, tongues dancing a torrid tango.
Teeth clash as our ardour grows; fingers grasp hair, tastebuds tingle.
Finally tearing ourselves apart, we gaze deeply into each other’s eyes, dark with desire, sparkling with lust.
Hands grab desperately at clothes, rapidly undressing each other, running eager hands over soft naked flesh.
Opening my eyes, I catch a glimpse in the mirror of a weary old lady sitting in her rocking chair.
Rivulets of tears cascade down her cheeks at the distant memory of once upon a time.
Waves of desire are sweeping over me
Lustful sensations I cannot shake
Vibrations of welcoming warmth
One touch and I am taken
Passion overwhelms me
Temp’rature rising
Audible gasp
Cheeks flushing
Faster
Oh!
Really?
I see you
It makes me laugh
to watch your daily
modus operandi
Stalking your gullible prey
Compliant ladies of the night
Beguiling them with your wily charms
Leaving a trail of broken hearts behind
Pacman
Jane Sandford 