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!

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Heartfelt Plea

Oh to know the difference between a might be and a will,

the solid foundation of love in question,

Oh to realize the fallible nature of society driven by rule,

to know the outcome before we are made the fool.

Oh please believe my heart when an ache is known

for there is nowhere else I wish to be found,

then in her arms, with her sweet taste, her lips that share the night,

that in a moment I might lose myself and find comfort in thee.

Oh to know the beauty of Grace may be round,

in that her elegance of lost hope that now is found.

Shaking Hands

I haven’t found a way,

to alter the frame of mind,

still hoping, waiting,

still wondering if there is life after

falling into a corner collapse

where the only tangible piece I could recall,

was glancing toward the light,

only to notice

shaking hands.

This Darkness Prevail

In the shadows lives a mystique,

we can design our own mystery,

for whenever the need arises,

our hearts often choose to prevail.

If Words Might Heal

The speaker addressed the room,

eyes upon them, many thoughtful worries,

all seeking the same outcome,



They traveled for miles,

alone in their own personal struggles,

each one living a quiet curiosity,

all of them believing in a certain goodness.


Life is fallible,

once told,

now asked to believe,

we are all part of this machine.


The speaker noticed one

tucked away with purpose

in the far back row,

from a distant he could see their eyes.


Even when we try to hide in a crowd,

the red circles around our lives,

do tell a story,

one for which we might be proud.


The speaker then asked everyone in the room,

if you could share one thing what would it be,

and then he directed the people

to look one another in the eye, for a time …

A Very Short Walk

There would be cold,

the chill each step a bit more,

a challenge to move, a spiritual quest,

wondering about so many beforehand,

the waves would tell the story,

the breathing soon to be patterned,

a sort of survival inside a dream,

a slow reckoning

the chill of an eternal peace,

breathe …

A Picture of Her

A mystique that I can count on,

to see her eyes,

the color of her hair,

I hold on to her

while others can only imagine,

this visual beauty,

that once swept their visual glance.


I do hold on to you now,

for it is that moment I want only to recall,

a touch of your lips,

gracious and sweet,

the yearning, the pace,

the accentuate gasp

when found inside your world.


I wonder about love

and is it this painful to endure,

the silence of knowing just how

salient your dreams are  for me,

for I do wish to be

inside that day in the woods,

when you kissed me,

and I asked you to let me

hold onto you forever.


I will, I do, I can as long as time

will let me be with your memory.

Writing to Fill an Empty Heart

I struggle with words,

they seem to carry on a certain storyline,

one I can never really grasp,

until the print allows my eyes to remember,

the swimming in motion ends

when it becomes the right time to let go.


I’d like to find the imagery in pain,

is it the steel edge cutting into a red ribbon,

where eyes might watch the soul slip away

in steady stream

no more hesitation,

a quiet, soothing, not so eternal release.


A friend of mine once said to me,

it is true we live our lives a very short time,

so in that span of countless hours,

we might remember love,

for it is that spiritual energy allows our smile,

if only for a brief instant,

to give us hope, a meaning and reason to survive.


I know that sometimes words might convey meaning,

but if it isn’t felt then they do become

only a semantic journey filled with imagery and pause.