The Woman

As I tiptoe past her door
In that room, in that bed,
My darling sleeps.

The thought of her touch,
Her kiss, inflames my body
Like the taste of Spanish wine.

I open the forbidden door,
The hot musky aroma of a woman
Fills my senses and mind.

I look at her,
She is stretching her body,
Like a lioness on the plain.

My breath catches, the sight,
Every movement she makes
Is poetry in motion.

the light from a lamp
Sparkles from her hair,
A river cascading around her face.

The movement of her hips,
Like a moth to a flame,
Draws me lustfully towards her.

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Randall Smith

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Not from anywhere but from everywhere Germany, Korea, Viet Nam, USA, Army Veteran, Germany 1966-1968, Viet Nam 1968-1969. Two kids and bunch of grandkids. Enjoy my Roses, fishing and card playing. I may not write for several months and then I can not stop for several weeks. I have notebooks with 4 or 5 lines only, waiting for me to return.
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6 Comments on "The Woman"

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ammu sachariah

Your attraction towards your darling is very beautifully portrayed here. I was searching for your new poems. But couldn’t get any. I was wondering why.

ammu sachariah

Sir,why don’t you comment any poems now. Waiting to hear from you.

ammu sachariah

You are not getting old . your mind is young and your thoughts are young. I was very much inspired by your comments. But I could’nt get it since a long time . Waiting to read your poems and to get your suggestions .

Geetha Paniker

A beautiful expression portrayed.

John Prophet

Sweet poem Randall I like it….



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