On The Menu

Roses breathed to bosom, dusky evening,

Linen tablecoth, choice silverware,

Damask dress, trimmed velvet, black as midnight,

Mackintosh to Mackintosh high chairs.

Crystal leaded, claret perfumed, goblets,

Damson, berried, succulence so full,

Lips to edges, tongues explore, exploding,

Morsels delectating, savoured pull.

Salmon, oaken-smoked, slivers sweating,

Recline invitingly on cress with dressing bare,

Venison richly waiting for the sizzle,

Sides to touch, mere moments, serving rare.

Scattered cushioned silk upon the hearthrug,

Embers banked, maintaining just degree,

Freesia perfumed water by the fireside,

Elevating moisture tremulously.

Sparkling eyes aglow, pearlies nibbling

Cream on chill in earthenware to pour,

Forested kirsch and cherry brandy, 

Coffee bubbling, ambient the air.

Lazy ease, recumbent postures, idling,

Somnabulent with sleep, determined smiles,

Comforted, sense comforted, piled hearthrug,

Rarest sensories for miles and wiles.

Tripping The Light

A place to pass, undivided,

came she calling,

tripped on moonbeams,

at her feet, carelessly,

closed eyes to evidence

of all obstruction,

felt her way,

edged darkness met oblique.

A passage in an underworld

known better

than light afforded

rights of pathways trod,

undeterred

in shadowed frozen starlight,

a slithered facial glimpse

of subtle god.

Resonance held bound

by briefest meeting,

a pocketful of light

to carry forth

into the dreams held back

in conscious waking,

a hesitation’s gift

of deepest worth.

Sensory Opiate

Petals perfumed for the purpose,

Sweetly scented just for us,

Scattered from above to rest abed.

Fragile flower fragments,

Tinted pink and white pigments,

Pillowing softly our two heads.

 

Subtly stirring in the air,

Bouquet of roses in our hair,

Drowsy opiate of love’s addiction.

We turn and gather close,

Bodies melding head to toes.

Soporific lovers’ benediction.

Make Haste

Suckers for love, all,

We give and receive.

Without it, mere nothing,

What would we believe?

A future unchallenged,

Unfounded, gone missing.

Love is a pleasure.

But then, so is kissing!

 

Sensory pleasures,

Love offers as such,

Enabling devotion,

Without it so much

Passion for loving

Would surely fall flat,

All work and endurance,

Nought wrong with that

 

Except that the adage says,

All work and no play

Makes Jack way too dull.

Well, Jill feels that way.

Uphill the struggle

Without all the hugs,

The kisses, caresses,

Our heartstrings, they tug.

 

No chapters or verses

In love’s fairy story,

Songs sung and melodies

Depict all the glory.

Sensations in mind

Surface to skin,

Heart coincides,

Wonder begins.

 

Eyes spark a light,

Words speak the truth,

Kissing, soft touching

Remind aged and youth

That senses unveiled,

Stroked in and without,

Love is the answer,

Of this have no doubt.

 

Uncovered in body,

More clearly in mind,

Thoughts seek their equal,

More surely to find

The one, with eyes closed

In darkness distinguish,

Light pursues light

Acknowledge, relinquish

 

Desire in all functions,

Bodies so mated,

Encapsulate all in

Manner created.

Wholesome, familiar

Comprehended, well known

Sought blindly, conceded

Accredited, full shown.

 

No pleasure in living

If love is not borne

All joy and happiness,

All zest, have been shorn.

Seek with eyes open,

Be ready to give

And receive, that’s important,

Make haste to live.