I
Eyes locking across the room
beckoning with one slow smile
bodies joining
heat rising
silk slides off
lace merges with satin
tumbling
falling
breath catching
sighing
limbs interlacing
eyes rolling back
overcoming scent
a burst
sudden silence
lazy laughter
desiring more
never fully sated.
~
II
It's all in the way you move
which fills me up
slows me down
never ending
creating that heat
we're craving
in one second
unifiying.
© Copyright 2007 Kathleen M. Wehrstedt. All rights reserved
I need a muse
(The writer mused)
I've been betrayed
My mind is frayed
I've lost my touch for words.
Goodness only knows
What is a poet
Without his prose?
Upon the early morn,
Heavy lidded
And beard unshorn
I spied an angel
In the mist
The glow of sun
Would gently kiss
A golden curl upon her cheek
Eyes of blue, piercing, deep.
Oh! To call out to her
To run to her and reach
To touch that fairest
Softest of cheeks!
Those golden curls!
Unforgettable such entrapment would deem
My fingers could only dream!
Forage around the betrayal of my mind
I need peace and woe is mine
In the depths of the darkness there is something there
Burning and burning without hesitation or care
I do feel the warmth,
It encircles me
And quill to parchment
Finally beckons me.
I have become one with the words,
The world is on fire
For this fair maiden
Fuels my only desire.
Thank you, dearest one
Your kindness cannot be outdone
Within the scope of my imagination
You will always be immortal,
Not a centerpiece of infatuation.
