Kisses so Tender
Kisses so tender they blew my mind
this was lust of a different kind
Just when I thought I had nothing to learn
I discovered a slow fuse kind of burn
Ignition was quick but the blaze was slow
and didn't rage but smouldered low
It appeared to be over but woe betide
the heart with a hidden fire inside
Like something unholy it creeps and lurks
it's the way this kind of passion works
you think you're safe till the moment when
spontaneous combustion strikes again
A thought, a word, and the fire returns
your soul ignites and your body burns
there's no escape for, hidden deep,
it isn't quenched by the tears you weep
Tender love gives off gentle heat
but still it knocks you off your feet
and all the time you await the bliss
you know can come only from his kiss.
© Nov 2002
A Journey of Discovery
To this unfamiliar land
he came intent on exploration
eager and expectant
he sought her secret heart.
Wonderingly he wandered freely
scaled her mountains
roamed her valleys
strolled her fragrant pastures
searched every crevice, high and low
photographed each scenic view.
Sadly, time was not his friend
and all too soon ran out on him
so, though exultant, still he felt
an overwhelming hunger;
he knew that there was much much more
yet to be discovered here
so, heart aglow, he left her
vowing to return.
© Dec 2002
Cosmos
Love so new
yet timeless
hooked up to infinity
we scintillate
we glow
merging with the cosmos
we are starstuff
we know.
© Dec 2002
Seasons of Love
What does your love mean to me?
More than I can say.
What does hours of sunshine
mean to a Summer's day?
What would Autumn be without
the leaves of red and gold?
That's what I would be, my love,
without your hand to hold.
Winter without snow and ice
wouldn't be the same
but then they melt; as I do
at the mention of your name
And just as Spring needs gentle rain
to make the flowers grow
that's how much I need your love
to keep my heart aglow
What does your love mean to me?
More than you can guess.
Is it really so important?
Yes, my love. Oh yes.
© Dec 2002
One Perfect Moment.
Caught up in the moment
a moment so exquisite
so infinitely tender
words were quite inadequate
when, suddenly, tears of joy
emerging all unbidden
hesitantly trickled down
to mingle with my hair
Hastily I wiped them
the more to reassure you
but there, in your eyes
I saw the misty moistness
echoing my own
and knew that in that moment
- that one perfect moment -
we two had touched heaven
and survived.
© Dec 2002
Bewildered
Bewildered, I wander
like someone blind from birth
now made to see
or as one who had no hearing
and is now assailed from every side
that's how it feels to me
to meet someone so kind
who speaks to me in words unknown
words not heard by the abused
language so foreign to my ears
it seems incomprehensible
and leaves me stunned, confused
what is this thing called love?
is it merely gratitude
knowing someone cares
or something deeper, more profound
resounding in the heart of me
in answer to my prayers?
And he - what does he feel?
sympathy for someone lost?
What is it that he sees?
An injured orphaned creature
needing someone's gentle touch
her spirit to unfreeze?
And so am I bewildered
not knowing what the future holds
but learning fast
knowing only that I must go on
to live today and through this new found life
forget the past.
© Nov 2002
I Love Him But...
I love the guy but sometimes,
sometimes - what to say?
When he goes off into one;
when he's having a rant.
"A storm in a teacup - soon over."
Over, that is, till next time.
He says he doesn't even know.
Strange, but apparently true.
Says that I should tell him,
tell him to "shut the fuck up"
but how would that help, really?
Besides it's not my way.
I'd rather try to make him think,
think about what he's saying,
how ridiculous it sounds.
How it makes me feel.
I love the guy but sometimes,
sometimes all I can say
is a quick: Hey! I love you.
That usually does the trick.
© 2003
Falling Apart
It hurts so much
when he has to go;
the highs are so high
the lows, so low.
He leaves each time
with a piece of my heart;
little by little
I'm falling apart.
© March 2003
Bitter Sweet
A bitter sweet affair
honey and lemon
in equal measure
growing pleasure
when together
time apart
more tart.
© 2003
An Air of Discretion
Last night I did the unthinkable
my first time, as you can tell.
I didn't know really what to expect
but in fact it went down quite well.
No, it wasn't his birthday,
it wasn't like that at all;
it was just a natural progression,
like a door leading off of a hall.
So if one of the kids ever asks me
"Did you ever do that, gran?"
I'll just say, with an air of discretion,
"Oh indeed!" and flutter my fan.
© 2003
Moments To Treasure.
Lost my love? Oh no.
He isn't lost at all.
It's me who's lost
lost in his kiss
lost in his arms
lost in bliss
lost in these feelings
of absolute pleasure
utter contentment
moments to treasure
lost for the hours
we have together
lost as we hurtle
hell for leather
into a future all unknown
to reap what comes from
the seeds we've sown.
Lost my love? Oh no.
He isn't lost but found.
I found him and he found me
now we're lovers
don't you see?
with a love as strong
as a big oak tree
growing on fertile ground.
© Jan 2003
Intoxication
'Tis heady wine, this love of mine;
an intoxicating potion.
My brain aborts all saner thoughts
and runs on raw emotion.
Without a doubt my mind can flout
all semblance of convention
though now and then I count to ten
with wisdom's intervention.
It seems to me where'er I be
I ought to act more shrewdly
but still I find my foolish mind
behaving rather crudely.
The kind of things that passion brings
to bear upon proceedings
are not the sort that I was taught
in all those bible readings!
Love's potent charm can quite disarm
and leave one most unwary.
The mind is closed, the heart exposed,
which seems somehow contrary,
as if the pair, all unaware
were two opposing factions
whereas I find my heart and mind
desire the same attractions.
And so I live and take and give,
and suffer all this madness
for one who knows and comes and goes
to share with me this gladness.
We two are blessed but careful lest
it all should end in sorrow;
drunk on the wine we're feeling fine
but what about tomorrow?
© 2003
Nothing Succeeds Like a Bird
Pushed from pillow to post, in fashion,
round the house
as we espouse
love, or precisely, passion.
Situations I'd once despise
now excite
through or despite
taking me by surprise.
Taking up a position of thrust,
making hay
night or day
before I turn to rust.
Bit by bit I love and learn;
grow, it seems,
fulfilling dreams
and fantasies by turn.
Whether I am dressed to thrill,
dishabillé
whatever way,
I'm out to get my fill.
I've always liked to get my kicks
with a man
but yes, you can
teach an old dog new tricks.
Words and phrases, modern, strange -
It's a biggie,
Gettin' jiggy -
modify my range.
Just because there may be snow
on the roof
I'm not aloof;
inside I am aglow.
Deep in me, the fervent blaze
your every stroke,
your kisses, stoke
and leave me in a daze.
You pander to the beast in me,
the primitive
who longs to live
fierce and wild and free.
Come now, fill my every need;
take me higher,
douse the fire,
and maybe I'll succeed.
© Oct 2003
What Lies Between
A monochrome existence,
a technicolor dream;
a million miles and the thickness of
a street door lie between.
© 2003
His Take on Things
Love can be so many things and his was adoration,
a grand obsession, reverence, veneration, awe.
Humble in her presence, afraid to break the silence,
bowled over by the beauty, the splendour that he saw,
he thought her a lady, never lacking, never stupid;
for him she could do no wrong and never, ever, bore.
He loved her with a passion, and could not explain
how he felt he was trespassing in touching her at all,
like a dirt poor down and out dining at the Ritz
or a kid adding colour to the sketches on her wall;
like guzzling a vintage wine or rare Napoleon brandy
yet unable to resist her and her power to enthrall.
To penetrate such hallowed ground, even though invited,
made him feel privileged but something was wrong:
it seemed to be sacrilege, a kind of desecration,
crude and insensitive; he didn't quite belong
though, feeling unworthy, he nonetheless enjoyed her;
the purely primordial attraction was strong.
All this was in his heart; he claimed he had no words
for the very special feelings that overwhelmed his soul.
Happy just to stand in the shadow of her greatness,
- his mentor, his heroine, her happiness his goal -
he wanted just to love her, even from a distance,
and never understood the importance of his role.
© 2004
And Mine.
I wish he wouldn't worry so, I don't know how to be;
it's hard to just act natural when he's so staid with me.
Standing on a pedestal is difficult at best,
a thing I'm not accustomed to, it has to be confessed.
It's lovely that he sees me so but really hard for me,
tricky not to laugh at times; to take it seriously.
This is me, remember? The stupid little kid.
The one nobody wanted, the one who flipped her lid;
a crazy aging nympho who loves the guy to bits.
I'm no-one special, honestly! Sometimes I'm the pits!
And yet I love him for it, the way he makes me feel:
suddenly I'm beautiful; it's something quite unreal.
For those few stolen precious hours it isn't me at all
but someone else, someone better, feeling ten foot tall,
with charms I didn't know I had, attributes galore;
someone who can fascinate and make his senses soar.
He never says I'm shocking, or selfish, or a pain,
he doesn't think me stupid, ridiculous, insane.
I wonder sometimes what it is that makes him see me thus
when all my life I seemed to make most people sigh and cuss.
But something else has happened since he's treated me this way;
I'm learning to appreciate that really I'm ok,
to see myself a whole new way, as gold instead of dross;
the ones who couldn't see it, well, maybe it's their loss.
I've grown so much because of him, he makes me come alive;
the feelings and the thoughts I have not only live but thrive.
It's wonderful to see how much I like myself at last;
because of him I finally can overcome my past.
So do I mind the way he is? I did at first, I think.
He'd look at me that way he has, my heart would start to sink;
I felt it couldn't last too long, he'd see the truth one day
but after all this time I guess there's not much I can say.
© 2004
Drowning
Where does it start to go wrong?
When does it stop being fun any more?
Falling from grace, from unreachable heights,
to confusion and doubt and a mournful song.
Floundering now in a sea of unease,
not trusting the lifelines you throw.
What brings about this decline?
Just misunderstanding or something worse?
Some sinister motive, insidious and dark
or simply confusion, as overworked minds
and fertile imaginings go to town,
leaving discernment at home?
As we sink beneath waves of despair
we try to remember the way it was,
the day we met and the many days since,
the joy and the ecstasy, feelings we've shared,
overwhelmed now by a turn of events
that threatens to end all we know.
© 2004
Left?
It looks like my love is leaving me -
it's hard to believe, I know -
with everything we had going for us
why would he want to go?
I'm sure he hasn't tired of the fun -
he was anything but bored -
but lately he doesn't contact me.
I'm feeling very ignored.
Perhaps I'm being paranoid -
possibly being unfair,
maybe he isn't leaving but
he simply isn't there.
No sign of him on messenger
no reassuring word,
no call or text on the mobile phone;
it's getting quite absurd.
I sit and wonder what's going on:
has his pc simply died?
Is his cell phone out of order?
Has he tried and tried and tried?
Maybe he's lying ill in bed
unable to get to a phone,
or laid up in the hospital
with a horribly broken bone.
But, whatever the reason,
he isn't getting in touch
you'd think that he could find a way
if he cared for me that much.
The only thing I'll excuse him for -
and I don't think I'm being mean -
is if he's in a coma,
wired up to a machine.
If it carries on much longer
there's only one thing to do:
I'll find me another lover,
or possibly even two.
It's not as if I couldn't;
there are plenty of men out there
and it's not as if I wouldn't -
I have plenty of love to share!
I wish my lover would contact me -
I really miss him, you know -
but if that's the way he wants it,
I'll have to let him go.
© 2004
Perplexed.
Don't write me off just yet, you said,
before you went away
and so I settled down to wait,
day by lonely day.
I don't think I'm impatient
although it seemed so bleak
when still I had no word from you
as week succeeded week
but now the weeks turn into months
and really I'm perplexed.
I knew I wouldn't see you but -
an email or a text?
I'm feeling rather foolish
and feel inclined to scoff.
So - how long do I give it then,
before I write you off?
© Oct 2004
Neverland.
My hair's forgotten how to curl;
I've had no love in ages.
Not for me the social whirl;
my diary's all blank pages.
Since my lover disappeared
I've searched for a successor.
Sadly, though, it's as I feared;
there's none that isn't lesser.
No other man can take his place
but why should any try it?
Who else has his loving face?
The richest couldn't buy it.
It seems I'm stuck in Neverland,
a heart without a dwelling.
Must I remain fore'er unmanned?
There's just no way of telling.
© Dec 2004
I Still Love You.
Each day I seem to see your face
most everywhere I look
'cause I still love you babe,
I still love you
and yours is still the only name
written in my book
'cause I still love you baby,
I still love you.
Through an inch of whiskey
things get a little blurred
though nothing really helps much
and it's probably absurd
but I can't help feeling lost somehow,
bereft of you, you turd,
but I still love you babe,
I still love you.
© 2004
Beanie Bear
Perched upon my bedhead is a little beanie bear;
one who has a secret, so he says.
His beady eyes regard me with a concentrated stare
yet bring to mind another's loving gaze.
Now you may think I'm far too old for things so infantile,
but that seems somewhat ageist and unfair;
this scarlet, soft plush teddy has more value, by a mile,
than any fancy diamond solitaire.
This small romantic token watches over me at night;
he tells me that my lover loves me still,
never out of mind, although he may be out of sight,
the memories continuing to thrill.
I treasure Secret Bear for he reminds me every day
that for a while, at least, such joy was mine.
The future is uncertain but I know that, come what may,
I have known love, and loved, and it was fine.
© 2005
Old Flames
An old flame flickered once again,
a flame I'd thought was dead.
It flared up briefly in the night:
Look, I'm still here, it said.
I watched and waited then to see
if it would reappear
but all around was cold and dark
and desolate and drear.
There's closure in a funeral pyre:
all hope is gone for good.
Old flames are better left to die
completely, as they should.
© 2006
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