Precious quiet moments we treasure
They’re much too infrequent, but always a pleasure
Sharing a knowing look, a smile, a kiss
When we’re apart those are the things we miss
Stolen moments are much too rare
They are the times we love to share
We reminisce about the days of old
Discussing things that should never be told
Basking in each others company with delight
Wondering if we’ll ever get to share a night
For now, we must be and are content
With each and every Stolen Moment
Unbeknownst to many people
there’s much, much more to sex
than the actual act of intercourse
It is a relationship
commitment, imagination and
the opening of one’s self to the unknown.
Going back to the experimental days of high school
where an orgasmic grind was mind blowing
when talking dirty created physical reactions
How the mere thought of a touch or a word
could start a river flowing.
Give me now, the innocence, carefree spirit
and ambition of adolescence
mixed with the maturity and know how
and you will make me
a blissfully happy,
It’s Not Her Fault
It’s not her fault that you ignored forbidden lines,
That you entered into territory that wasn’t meant for you
That you violated & destroyed a child’s innocence
That you damaged a child emotionally & psychologically for decades
That you side tracked her path to greatness into
None of it was/is her fault
But it’s her burden to bear
It’s her wound to heal
It’s her scar to wear
on her wounded soul
Human nature is
dictated by curiosity.
We want what we can’t have
We like to play with fire.
Feel the heat!
sensuous bedroom eyes
soft lips and gentle caresses.
Precious few moments
for stolen kisses.
Hidden signs that tell of
We long for romantic encounters.
The stuff novels are made of
star filled nights
exploding with hot passion.
Hearts and bodies becoming one.
Consumed by the Fire!!!
A ten-foot Black Heart was erected
Today by a man with a broken, lonely heart to
share with all others who are sad, broken-hearted, lonely,
& single. Tired of seeing others smiling, starry-eyed, carrying
heart-shaped balloons lying “I love you”; proudly sporting roses
that’ll die as quickly as “love” can; as well as cards, candy and
stupid lookin teddy bears. Wishing for a dart gun to pop those
balloons and praying this God forsaken day will be over
with soon. Hoping no one else will smile at you and
say “Happy Valentine’s Day” at which point you
either scream, cry, or ask “What’s so Damn
happy about it”, or quietly grumble
“Happy #@! Valentines
to you, too!”
but your “sorry”
just ain’t sorry enough….
Not enough to:
– heal the hurt of a heaving heart
– repair the soul you’ve shattered
– dry the tears leaking from my swollen eyes
– alleviate this unbearable pain
It’s too little, too late to fill the chasm left by your thoughtless actions
followed by your stinging words
You’re sorry? For what?
For getting caught?
For my silence?
For my absence?
You may be sorry
but your pathetic apology ain’t enough
to heal this hurt or right this wrong.
Go be sorry with her.
Meeting someone for the first time
that you’ve known before.
How could that be?
Reaching out to shake their hand
jolted by electricity.
Was that generated by me?
Getting to know each other
you talk, laugh and share.
Your souls quickly become
an inseparable pair.
Having so much in common with them
just seems too unreal.
Can’t begin to express to them
just how you feel.
So many words between you
that go unspoken.
A spiritual bond
that can never be broken.
No need to speak of things
you already know
Your kindred spirits will be as one
no matter where you two may go.