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!


This Posture

Like yesterday, perhaps in the moment,

a gasp

to the naked eye,

such is beauty,

inherent in the persona

of a lover in her privacy.


Only quiet reminders

might recall,

such is the treasure will

a woman

behold upon a man,

sweet delight is mystique.


If forever could suggest,

a posture,

a pose,

a need to expression,

then while the world evolves,

would my heart be held in hers.


We will remember the moment

sweet demeanor is passionate notice.

Love’s Visit


For a time, a reflective state of mind,

was my only hope,

a refreshing recall,

always with smile, a certain

sweet celebration could overcome

my any situation

if in that moment she

did return to mind.


Oh to know the many moons,

the calming sunsets,

red sky alerts to help me know,

this day was in our catalogue,

we recorded everything,

so many years ago.

Now today, in my search,

the constant would carry

my life through several cycles,

the ongoing experience, the mastery of

the human condition.

Oh, such a boring reality I might often espouse.


Then there beyond knowledge, fantasy, speculation,

her persona did arrive,

step into my world and dance,

I thought to myself,

as she moved through the room,

causing everyone to stand still,

the energy was simply thrilling,

without any need to wonder why.


Skip directly to the hello,

for all of you know


I did swoon her elegance.


The eyes, the careful smile, sweet wonder

did return and my world

seemed to embrace a new chapter.


Now while around me everyone plans,

the tasks are many,

the fortunes always a fantasy,

for my day,

for my years, for the very nature of why,

I do stand here,

in quiet repose,

I will tell you this time,

of course,

I do love,

and I always have

felt this emotion, this quiet fantasy,

I do wish

upon Love’s visit.


August 20th, 2015



The Little Things

When our lives settle difficult,

we wonder what will be our next

manner of speaking,

how to convey a need for love.


When our passions so unbridled,

cause our eyes, our hands, our bodies,

to want to interweave, and grace

each other’s fire with further desire,


it is in the little things she does,

when her fingertips touch my own,

and sweep the skin to help me feel

her love is an everlasting reminder.


When in the moment, our moment,

she does let my hands fill themselves

with her hair, so she feels my touch

upon her neck to allow her eyes to live.


When in the day, we do spend hours

in simple tones, conscious of each other,

in a need to display love in a quiet,

in a quiet, in a quiet manner of touch.

In What He Imagine Love

When in a rainfall, we wait to watch the droplets hang,

a lush forest, where a glistening fire of Her magic,

awaits our eyes, doesn’t beg, just does remain,

… and we continue to move about our day this way.


It would seem there might be a need to recognize,

She is a gift to be cherished in her every wise

manner of Grace in lighting up our lives,

to know certainty is the absolute of her mystique.


When love might be recalled, described, wondered,

there is this natural sense to look to the forest,

whereby the answers will always await the traveler,

the one who ceases step to pause, whisper the magic.


Deep inside the wood, glance into the depths, the sound

a Throstel make would carry a man’s heart further beyond

the tangible nature of life’s preoccupation only to wish

upon her soul, she is a seer, sweet mystical aura, is Love.

These Are The Nights

When in a moment,

your eyes suddenly cross my mind,

from there, I am inside you, wishful,

imaginative moments of delicious desire,

in these moments,

I am wanting to feel the cling of fabric,

suits a sweet nipple,

left to believe my tongue, a biting tease,

would wet that fabric, while your gasps,

sent my fantasy further,

hands have found me, so needy, wanting,

wishful eyes would widen

when knowing you might be getting just turned on


to know I am here

doing what you cause me to want

when surreal is the caress

of my visual

memory …

feed me please!

I Wanted

I wanted

when I was a young lad

this fever overwhelmed me,

a need,

a starving desire,

I wanted to

know you.


would watch when while we went

about our day,

a posture, a glance, a heat of flush

defined desire

visual verocity

I could only imagine having you,



want to have me.

I knew well that would never happen,

I could imagine you,

while you smiled allowing me to have a fleeting notion

we could do this together,

I would then,

yes, I would listen to you as you asked me

a caress

a blouse that led me astray,

nipples alive in the privacy of your day,

your smile, your eyes, locked knees

to expose a beautiful …

turned with a glance

can you see me,

want to know me.



The world is round, we are drawn by lines,

those that appeal,

surreal when defined.

I glance to see so many objects

all coordinate the spacial view

my eyes allow a certain

kaleidoscope in

structure, shelving, a surface reality,

Yet, soft stripes reach a moment.

Your moment, her moment, that … delicious,

when as you appear defines beauty within.


We are given the linens to provide such fantasy,

a sheer sundress on a sun lit morning.

The other day she told me she walked past me,

where little if anything underneath, ‘did you see’

as my head reeled around for the opportunity,

to see a human being naked within society’s eyes.

“I missed it, mind if I look further’ I quipped, she kneed

me where I knew her lips might later favor me.


Yet, I am left wondering how blessed we are to imagine

the sensual nature of life in the physicality of our day.

How are we fortunate to imagine that privacy that offers

such straining, arching, near breath-taking reach of wonder.


I did sit nearby while I watched you arrive, and the pleasure

is mine, simply mine, whether you might know or discover.