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The keys to Heaven’s door
The steam, the body lotion, the intimate gel,
The shampoo, the time spent together in the
Shower. The heat of the room, the shaving
Foam, the rustle of cellophane, the scent of
New stockings, the aftershave, the perfume,
The non-existent underwear, the giddy flesh,
The tempting lips and then for the lady, the
Long preparation of slipping into nothing at
Of such stuff dreams are made and men
Brought to their knees. Castles are built and
Fortunes accrued. Nothing on earth drives a
Man like love, especially tasting the flesh of
The apple fresh from the tree, fresh from the
Shower, lovers flitting between rooms in
Delicious measures of deshabille.
The lady knows how good she looks, her
Mirror tells he so every day, but more than
That her body tells her so too; it is not by
Accident that naked or clothed she can
Turn heads and turn men to putty. She is
Woman from head to toe, and so too her
Collection of wardrobes cutting a dash
With every swish of every hanger. Open
Any door to find dresses to take a man's
Breath away, dresses to dazzle, dresses
To flash and dresses to arouse those two
Devious spirits of cupidity, lust and avarice.
Well, a figure of such stunning deportment
Deserves an admiring eye whatever the
As he crossed the landing he caught sight of
Her combing her hair in a full-length mirror,
Straight from the shower she might have been
The work of Botticelli or some other genius with
A paintbrush, he'd seen her this way lots of
Times before, but tonight his heart leapt causing
Him to gasp.
Did she know he was watching? Yes, I think
She did, hard to disguise a sharp intake of
Breath it somehow travels... Tummy tight in
Step-in French panties she was putting on
A show for a one-man audience and so he
Took his seat for the second act.
It is not hard to love a beautiful woman, to
Lavish her, ravish her, devour her with every
Kiss. Beyond the body there is the mind and
When the body and mind are one then love
May be said to be at its peak and at its peak
It was tonight.
She asked if he loved her and he replied 'Yes'
'What part did he love best?' She chuckled. 'Oh,
I think you know.' he teased, 'but if you wish I
Might revise and perhaps then you'll be as wise
Take me to your heart and let me linger for a while,
My fingers yearn to touch, to explore, to part flesh
To trace your outline, trace your secrets and once
There touch and then retract until invited back in a
Chorus of love swept along on a tide of fiery desire.
A desire to know every inch of you again; to renew
My addresses to every fibre of your being. To part
Your lips drink of your love and feel the sweat of
Temptation running at speed down my brow. Could
There be a greater gift than the love of a woman
For a man and he for her? I think not.
Let me dwell within your arms forever. Hold me
Close, hold me tight perchance I might slip and fall
From heaven. My God the mirror did not lie, all that
Beauty reflected in glass, now in my arms.
Chambre de monsieur: White shirt, black pants,
Gold watch, gold cuff Links...
Chambre de madame: Perfumed stocking,
Perfumed cleavage perfumed…And the night
Beauty and wealth on this scale does not go
Unnoticed. Wherever people of this calibre go
Fate and fortune goes with them. Their table
Had been set for two and the maitra d' about
To approach the couple, when into the lounge
Came friends lately up from London; and in no
Time at all an intimate table for two became
A cosy-corner for four.
Slipping into nothing at all (times two) equates
To fate raising the stakes and fortune putting
Temptation far and away above anything on the
Menu in the plushest of plush hotels. They talked,
They danced, they laughed, and as the night wore
On tipsy heads came together and friends repaired
To the terrace for intimate walks in the moonlight.
Sliding one's arm around the waist of one woman
Is very similar to sliding it around the waist of the
Right woman; but who cares, they'd known one
Another for years, skinny dipped together,
Holidayed together and now in the tempting light
Of earth's companion time stood still, all that
Mattered now was the moment, that breathtaking
Heart-stopping moment when breasts clearly eager
To escape their perfumed captivity became too
Inviting, too much to resist, too much to ignore,
Pressing hard against the latest devil-may-care
Barely there creation from Christian Dior; stirrings
Behind the finest silk tracery evident of a heated
Desire to be admired in the flesh, touched, cupped,
Loved and taken with haste.
Here then is a little of one night of every night,
Nights of passion and fashion cutting a dash
Along the luxurious corridors of power and
Position. Wealth in the hands of two imaginative
Lovers who are at least half way to paradise, if
Not in full possion of the keys to heaven's door.
© Joseph G Dawson