NSFW – Adults Only Please – My goal with this page constantly evolves – there was a time when all I wanted was to pique a woman's interest in the hope we connect through writing, dialogue … today, with all of the wonderful inspiration I've received, my need is to further my respect and intrigue in the sensual nature of 'woman' in all of her grace and elegance. I do hope you might enjoy!

In Wanders of Love


I think I discovered something today,

or perhaps it was meant to arrive this way,

I always do wonder,

I wander through my day, in a curious state,

always asking myself,

what is it I really believe is love …

 

Yes, it is there I stumble,

trying to find a reason, an explanation,

it is then my intellect does begin,

to kick in, sometimes wanting to kick my teeth in,

I am in a constant state of explanation,

finding comfort in my own

awkward destination.

 

Perhaps it is there I must begin again,

to reason is not to win,

to accept is seemingly a sufficient path,

a road to travel,

a lesser evil to our constant desire,

to rearrange the coarse gravel is our lives.

 

Much like while in the forest green,

does my mind reflect upon my love for her,

in the peaceful setting,

of this wild wood beyond my own easy grasp,

a place of certain fear and terror,

if lost inside the mechanic of the human mind.

 

Appears before me then a glen,

a rushing water does certain reach its end,

to flow inside surreal landscape, offers a peace to my eye,

I would sit here to rest my mind,

to imagine the beauty surround,

a bird with winged departure,

leaves me with song,

immediately then it is her beauty is in my eye.

 

So, I do wander, while the visual wonder of the sky,

does in my mind ask me always,

what is the question why,

and who is the reason I would choose to cry,

to laugh, to design, to give urgency, to know it is joy,

that could cause my need to cry.

 

Perhaps it might be only that simple,

as does the scholar suggest there is no reason why,

only then do we begin,

to know, to see, to inevitably feel,

the euphoria of wanting to sigh,

in the eye of love,

is to know we might find a departur from

ourselves,

whereby we can then land our soul,

nearby, our psyche,

for the taking …

 

For it is not our own device to master,

only the wonder of her,

it is such the honey of her lips,

the sensation in arousal of her skin,

harmony in caress, the loss of control

begins to take over the essence of whole …

 

And when it is we let it begin,

this is love.

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