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 “passion

When While This Way


I wonder the fragrance of her hair,

when nestled in her shoulder, lips touch skin,

Let me breathe in your sense

before you leave me forever.

For it is that permanence

occurs every time I say good bye

to her.

Today I have been watching time

wishing only some sign,

an indication that tells me I am not crazy,

that this is real,

the ache I feel is the response to losing her.

 

I wanted summer to be alive with love,

a shower of affection like a late summer rain,

the two of us, soaked linens, laughing,

kissing each other in the constance

of a watery memory,

the times we would together,

flatter each other

with a certain elusive desire.

 

Yet it is today I stand

alone,

I wonder how much longer she can

let my need to share sensual dreams

with her,

her being by my side,

the scent of her,

lovely elegance,

stays in my mind,

forever.


A Time Before Love


There is a valley,

we all have a vantage point,

it carries a visual acumen,

filled with a variable progress.

 

I often wonder of accurate planning

the desire is action together

Yet we know acrimony might ensue

certainly we obscure our agency to love.

 

Would we in time languish desire,

that eternal love allows change

when what we long remains

always beyond lament’s labor.

 

If when we understand the truth

our lives would use simple time,

our world might utilize a passion

discreet yet real, a union met.

 

Can we begin to earn our truths

without the fear of every venue

combing the grounds to even the fare,

the beauty in love’s eternal eye.

 

Value allow love unusual ease.

 

 

 


She Walks Ahead


Outside a romantic air,

indicates love,

we might intertwine fingers

to please one another,

the skin that alive arouses a moment,

when least anticipated,

I see to be enticed.

Sunset allows a measure of time,

the changing hour,

when our passions become a yearn,

a need, a want, a smile, a taste,

a hand dives alongside thighs alive.

 

We walk, talk, imagine next,

find allowance for a separation,

knowing soon our bodies

intertwined,

will share an evening sky

together.


Cafe Dreamers


There’s a rain steady,

keeping indoors the traveler

whom might be seeking the wood,

may stroll along the coast,

skipping rocks, switching thoughts,

contemplating the beauty around them,

instead,

the coffee shop,

holds promise to the conversations

around that though similar, seem different,

contain stories all the same,

yet unique,

their worlds are always different,

in the context of their moments,

until we can catch each other’s eyes.

 

We wonder about the people next door,

a table nearby our own private world,

did they speak of it,

were they aware,

was there a time in their lives when everything,

seemed similar, possible, simple,

perhaps it is true,

they say it often enough to never forget,

we’re all the same,

we haven’t any lead on the element of change

the human condition might experience the same,

euphoric wonder built upon manifest tragedy.

 

I was sitting along with my company,

my world against hers,

together we were watching our own world,

responding to the elements in a unique fashion,

yet still, very still, almost

in a sort of decopaged setting,

still life,

to be measured in someone else’s eyes,

for they are the judge of this life,

not us,

we are simply the portrait.

 

A stillness in the air,

while we wait the rains,

they might part to give allowance

to nature’s Grace in the wooded freedom

of a dense forest,

away from all wander of deception.

 

While I stood inside the sidewalk cafe,

I watched the people around me,

create lives of envy,

to balance those of misfortune,

whose measure relied upon me,

or my own eyes, or their’s or someone

nearby,

with similar passion.

 

Yet in all of our sightings,

there seems only one reality.


In Respect to Time


Know me when I suggest, the time it took to favor love,

is like a flashing seen by few, yet felt eternally.

It is that moment when your eyes do sparkle

when your hair holds luster,

your legs, oh my …

 

When time allows my love to reach for your heart,

a slow methodical touch of passion that would suggest,

when gone again, I will love you from afar,

until next time,

until your eyes avail my desire.

 

Oh I cannot define the hours of need,

when my body yearns to feel the center of your dreams.

I only ask for this moment to become a memory,

all told a nostalgia repeats itself whenever could

our lives cross paths with importance and purpose.

 

We are the delicious nature of an instinctual reality,

it is that time we are known

the time it takes,

the moment when two lives become one,

oh to favor time.


It Is That Soft Touch


When we do go there,

our miles of dialogue discerned,

eyes searching, want,

the sudden though balanced

shift from anxiety to desire,

when we do, when touch

becomes central.

 

I imagine silk scarves covering her nakedness,

everything else is normalcy,

yet silk,

slides so effortlessly,

fun to pull with fingers,

or teeth,

more pleasurable to imagine,

the arousal, her skin, come alive

knowing she is being

loved in a physical way.

 

Oh there is certain in anticipation,

a rosy set of –

untouched yet yearning,

he sees, she knows, he knows, she …

when a moment allows the wetness

envelops one,

a gasp,

save the other, though always balance,

until there is a certain languid

sensuality that slides his mouth along lines,

toward another part of her nakedness,

his mouth plays, tongue tease,

she does again,

gasp, as his mouth lowers,

his hands return silks,

the scarves,

to naked, peaked – ,

shout to the touch, while

now the center will be his aim.

 

Oh to spend time here,

with hands that find,

with lips that do taste,

a desire in her eyes, looking for his,

for he is on a watch,

to notice her upper lip

settle in quiver

as yes he does,

the circles begin,

the fingertips respond, explore, search,

a designed rhythm

whereby bodies are moving,

his anticipation grinds into a corner

of silk bedding, save for later.

 

For now it is the duty, desire of his tongue,

to find her arch, that involuntary sweep of

unbridled passion,

that wanton nature,

of finding her rhythm to reach …

ah, breathe sweet, spent, curls and lips

rest upon my shoulder,

I would then feel her hands,

 

begin again …


Summer Elegance


For there is little else to suggest,

what is the fair nature of her season,

when an urgency to respond, let energy overcome

is all that seems necessary in a day.

 

Glance toward the beauty of woman,

she is that provocateur, a natural sense

of human nature on display,

yet, her inner peace ought be a certainty.

 

Indeed, the summer air does so trigger

an elegance in nature, in primal response,

yet so is the wonder of our soul

drawn to fulfill each moment we despair.

 

While walking alone today, a sunlit stage,

I do imagine her, in simple luxury,

the key to sweet solace her unspoken

elegance be my charge to rest my heart upon.