Rows and rows of books wearing pressed monogrammed jackets aligned at attention upon the shelves edges stained lightly by time.
To wring out one more droplet of thought from drying script These aging eyes thirst to caress sweet ebony lines fingertips desire to tease pert literary skin Milky sheets… tremulous under the fan’s kiss In hunger.. I lightly pull back flirting page tenderly stripping white lace. Succulent are the exposed word buds dancing in seductive sentence, glistening in midnight oil.
Praise this insatiable affair craving creative nectar. I will bask on the petal of her shy orchid
Literary Lessons #1: A poet should above all be devoted not to being copyrighted, but quoted. #2: Divine inspiration is no excuse for bad poetry. #3: In literary style, I endeavor to follow in the footsteps of Dickens, Poe, Dickinson
Logic races toward oblivion, In a little black dress and heels. Whispering words of love in your ear. Reason waits in the house, In yesterday’s shirt. Wanting very badly to be held. Passion consumes only in secret places, Clad in
What an incredible adventure this love affair has been So many wondrous things that I have felt and I have seen So many special places that left such a tender mark A myriad of memories forever etched upon my heart
He didn’t think about her for a week despite the Manchester slags carping in the rental car lobby while their children disassembled democracy and the drumbeat of the universe tore the cloud cover razed the concrete like blackberry canes way
Her contemplation is blue, like Monalisa’s portrait; That smilingly caresses with her latent tears. Nobody knows, When She cravingly sobs and; Where she wishfully cries; And who knows? When, she’d sacrifice her next smile; Her every smile in love. Her