Welcome to My Poetry Site
Work in progress
Their new romance is what you call a 'work in
Progress,' not quite fully fledged yet but boy
Are they working on it. Long periods of time
And motion, time because they have all night
To spend together, and motion because neither
Can keep their hands off the other.
Cool as you like on the surface, hot to the touch
Underneath, 'sizzling' would do it, but I prefer
'Smoking,' legs fixing to wrap him up, lock him
Up and throw away the key. Softest voice, softest
Tempo - beautiful girl, got what you call soul
Deep, heart deep, eyes.
He knows how lucky he is, watching her bathe
He knows he's in a time warp, knows his clock
Has slipped a cog and whizzed him back to a
More romantic time, a time of grace and beauty,
And there his Greek Goddess standing in her
Shell, a fluidity of form to thrill the eye of none
Other than Botticelli.
When they're together the tenderest fingers
Touch the tenderest flesh, flesh that springs
Back into shape when released, begging to
Be touched and teased over and over again.
In silhouette they are one, joined now, joined
Forever, easy to see how Gods and saints
Where brought to their knees by the flesh of
It is indeed an inspiring thought to trace a hand
Over the outline of a heavenly body, warm and
Inviting, yielding as only a woman can be. Men
Would march through Hell to be where this
woman sleeps, and yet here is a man laid beside
Her by invitation, no marching required, ‘just love
Me,’ read the invitation, a short but powerful line
That meant all the world to her and all the world
Take her in your arms, melt her like deep
Chocolate in a warm pan, swirl her round a
Bit, slowly stir, dip a finger to taste - 'Cor! lovely.’
Hold her close, kiss her where you know she
Wants to be kissed, lock the door...
'Work in progress.'
© Joseph G Dawson