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.

Sensual Awakening

Sensual awakening

Occurs.

Fingers roam lightly to explore caves of darkness,

Unseen except in meanderings

Of thought

And phrase.

Eyes burn into darkness,

Illuminating souls

And sweetened goals.

Tastes of molten liquid fire

Imagination

And scented cores seek

Investigation.

Senses all invoked thus

We feel our journey’s way,

Listening to heated breaths

That cause limbs and hearts to sway.

Many Ways

Speak love;                          hold fast my fascination,

Into my mind;                    ease such sweet frustration,

Tell me;                                 in words of dedication,

Show me;                            end my sublimation.

Please me;                           in ways of deviation,

Take me;                              release each rapt sensation,

Mould me;                           with tender observation.

Sing to me;                          another soul rendition,

Own me;                              I hear your plea’s petition.

Wonder not;                       no obvious solution,

Forgive me;                         I need your absolution.

Forget me.                          A hopeless persecution.

Hopefully, it should make sense reading right across or down either column. Maybe even bottom to top? Just noticed.

Music to Mate to

There is some that sets my feet to tap;

A beating bass or drum.

Very little kind of rap –

That really turns my tum.

Some send shivers down my spine,

My loins become a-quiver,

Those melodies that flow in time

Submerge me in their river

Of sensuous mood and poetry,

In sexual voice so clear,

Move heart and mind and soul in me

When loving one is near.

Caressing words stroke down my back,

Their meaning true and fluid,

No fantasies are found to lack,

Imaginations are imbued.

Floating in a sea of love

And lust, for some good measure,

Fingers light as any dove

Seeking others’ pleasure.

Melted in the moment of

Melifluous fantasy,

Music with the one I love

Does wondrous things for me.

 

 

Or is that too much information?