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!

Posts tagged “beauty

Thinking About This


I often wonder about notions,

an idea, plays out in my head,

I formulate my own opinion,

a funny sort of discrete decision.

 

Not yet, my mind tells me,

not ready to share with anyone else,

and there begins the battle,

because I do,

I so want to,

there’s a part of me that wants to free the world,

my world I suppose,

actually, our world,

because I think, wait a second, I mean,

we all seem to … have a want;

so that everyone around me will know

what’s in my head,

what I’m imagining,

 

Thinking about this.


Sunlight Serenade


Those are the days,

afternoons, the twilight beckoning a red sky,

it is the morning after,

while the children play, the people in their privacy

imagine a softer tone, a melody, a crystal montage,

cascades the mind with brilliance, enticing energy.

 

Walked outside today in an array of surreal,

the heat a fire on my skin,

the people nearby with an extra step,

all gloominess aside,

there is a rendezvous with beauty,

awaiting anyone across any avenue.

 

I would stand the heat,

play with the magical sense of this mystique,

turns heads, allows fantasy, creates

moments.

I would stand upon the highest ridge,

to only proclaim the beauty of this

possibility.

I would give her my heart, my soul

already being cradled inside the mystery of time.

Oh to know the response her sweet manner

will give the world around,

when in quiet repose,

she does dance elegant

letting the rays of heat’s sensuality

light her center on fire.

 

 


Savor This One


My mind, my body, my eyes,

have this perpetual desire,

though it’s, well, known, has indeed,

been done, thought about, imagined,

played out.

 

I’ve read about it, been turned on by it,

felt the enticement of the excitement

beyond it.

 

Yet I cannot still call it my own,

our own,

this intrigue,

a thoughtful repose,

a candid shot in the mind of others,

I still only count upon the fantasy.

 

A gray day, an indiscernible disappointment

for some,

for others it is the excitement,

traffic,

people watching, people seeing, people wanting,

different shapes and atmosphere and mood.

In the coffee shop on a simple afternoon,

where the stories are being told,

yet we are all so left alone.

 

A dark persona meant to simply allow space,

moves with a silent purpose,

eyes upon her are anticipated,

yet she has practiced diversion,

allows her life to be contained,

cup in hand, glance to the walls,

all filled with humanity inside their frame.

 

Choose the table,

please, I’ve arranged myself for you,

to be nearby, close enough to know eyes

suggest a scene,

only if you decide,

I can wish upon a dream,

I can hope to set the tone for this scene.

 

Wraparound legs, a turtleneck plays inside silk design,

she is stunning in her desire to be the elegance

she certainly portrays in a delicious

natural sense.

 

Sit there – my eyes dart away, my expression flush,

I wait in hope this lovely woman

will allow my eyes to exchange smiles with her,

though there is more to the story,

a lust, a desire, a certain silent seduction,

a pairing of ideals, of mood, of anticipation,

I would if given avenue, begin a quiet caress,

soft shoulders that speak of need,

lips, with little of a painted display,

yet certain to provide the sensuality my yearn

might feel if given a key to this fantasy.

 

She sips, while book open, her eyes devour

this moment with a delicious affect

speaks to my loins, I do want her now,

she glances my way,

the intensity of my need widens her eyes,

gently,

her book closes, a sip, a moment to ponder,

she steps out of my fantasy, to yet an exit nearby.

 

Deftly, my books close, book bag sorted,

my exit apparent,

I reach the car,

step inside with my state of mind,

anyone might ascertain,

yet remains completely my own,

for the moment.

 

‘Did that work’ she says, with a smile, buckling in.

I glance upon lithesome … eyes,

the pullover she knows is my favorite,

a complimentary scarf so elegant,

smiling,

I gather a breath, ‘Oh my, I do so … ‘

 

sweet lips entangle my reaching gasp.

 


Tears We All Know


I stepped outside today,

the world opening before my eyes,

a light rain,

a soft, quiet, lovely reminder

that allows me to return to a place I cherish

when in the silence of an afternoon gray,

she would …

I could …

and together the rains would walk our lives

through a maze of delicious passion and delight,

the sort of real,

that moves beyond this simple analogous notion.

 

It is the rain,

the tears of our natural cause,

the places we do travel together,

all alone and en masse engaged in

an elegant cleansing,

it is that time,

stand in surreal sensuality,

feel the tease of a reaching climax,

the heat of our own passions

making allowance for this sweet response

the crying.


Perfect Worlds; Imperfect Settings


We have these imaginations,

they are a fuel to our sometime need to be real,

to compel ourselves by a photograph

to maybe believe, such a setting to be true.

 

We do look the part, the perfect world,

a smile, a posture, held hands, eyes that cannot

tell a lie,

at least in this single moment.

 

There are the occasions that call for such a facade,

an instant moment when the story belonged

far elsewhere than did the

immediacy of a setting.

 

Perfect worlds, imperfect settings,

though the human condition

survives all moments beyond a mindful

reaction to our own certain circumstance.

 

My perfect world today, is far away from celluloid,

it is in the immediacy of her eyes, the ones I dream about

in a setting I choose to believe,

is in an eternal moment, her moment … hers is love.


Poodle Skirt Afternoons


It certainly is a fantasy,

every man’s dream,

well perhaps,

it is the notion of a certain elegance

hidden to a glance,

a pretty chance,

play with the irresistible nature of desire,

that lust, that splendid piece of …

 

Oh the liberties of the mind when will she sashay

past my way, past my day, upon my

sweet, sassy, display.

 

We all have our favorites,

the nature of a hot summer’s day,

a melody to rock the mind,

the sights of spring moving toward autumn,

we only have this short window

to appreciate the simple beauty of woman,

without the strain,

beyond the compromising fallacy of control,

can we only love,

be able to share our energy together,

to appreciate our most basic need,

the lovely reality of sensuality beyond objectivity.

 

Oh the liberties of the mind when will she sashay

past my way, past my day, upon my

sweet, sassy, display.

 

How I do often wish to know,

just the very chance of understanding purpose,

recognizing innocence in the natural

surrounding of man and woman

in the throes of passion.

We are a simple lot of ignorance,

so often lost in the rapture of an enticement,

we forget quite easily an element of integrity,

which when let go, the ties loosened,

will surely unravel the most chivalrous intent.

 

Oh the liberties of the mind when will she sashay

past my way, past my day, upon my

sweet, sassy, display.

 

Is it remarkable an instance can change my day?

I would hope it might always be this way.


The Foolishness


When I do sometime imagine,

where my world seems to wish to land,

how it is I have become the man I am today,

I wonder in the privacy of my way.

 

I ask myself in the quiet of a night rain,

is it me that is seeking cover from the pain,

do I ignore the needs of others,

or am I simply trying to avoid the fear of hers.

 

I listen to the beauty of our soft harmony,

a kiss, lips so soft I am in my own agony,

to imagine ever letting go of her sweet beauty,

I am the foolishness of my own lack of duty.

 

I have this yearn while watching the sky turn gray,

I do want you in my arms, her I mean, my dismay

in knowing I have been the light minded fool

of nostalgic certainty, the waving tides do cool.

 

A certain passion could describe the love we share,

when out of a quiet night we find we are where

we both wish to be, in arms, an unbridled love affair,

for that is the truth of our reality, someone might swear.

 

But I do love her, he says to himself, quite alone,

always alone again, knowing she had never known.