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 “real

When I Miss You


I honestly don’t know where my head is,

drifting along some riverbank,

a reminder of the man across the way,

that sort of damp soil,

yet we were together, alone

in a sort of, romantic way.

 

Self-conscious in our attraction to each other,

given the nature of the fisherman nearby,

we were never sure if his attention

was upon his animal, the golden running about,

or if he consciously wondered about

the two of us,

or maybe we did, we always do,

like any quiet stroll along the riverbank.

 

I remember I could rest my chin on your shoulder,

feel you pull yourself back to press lips on my cheek,

your hair cascades around me,

I can sense you,

I recognize the sweet air of your being,

like a quiet hug in the middle of the day,

in a neighborhood, we may.

 

I do wish to suggest, this is the state of my way,

when alone in my quiet mind, I am thinking …

wishing, wanting, always wondering, when time

will allow my rest upon

sweet naked shoulders.


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.


Wise Love


All knowing and understood,

the seeds planted,

the emotions already in check,

the eyes,

they speak volumes on a clear blue day,

when energy explodes,

a cacophony of brilliance in

knowing.

That is love,

it is a wise love,

a giving, and nearly spiritual reckoning,

That is love that isn’t needing any urgency,

it simply is,

it is,

her eyes.


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.


The Spiritual Nature of Love


Ah, the morning, the initial waking pause,

Reflect upon what is now real in our lives,

Oh, treat my senses with a memory cause,

I did recall the grace her wonder revives.

 

In this the start of a day, a rain falls gentle

An indication of some cleansing love alive

In my heart and soul, it is a fundamental

Reality suggests love is only meant to thrive.

 

In the moment, I dream the recall I knew

When in my arms we did travel a distance

Again, in the sweet twilight, a kiss so new

Always the nature of time recreates chance.

 

For we are compelled to always wonder now,

As passion designs a certain elegance in how.