How Rare Must Be the Man
With eyelids shut, old boyfriends of mine kissed
my lips unwhetted, so it’s no surprise
to me the romance in my life I missed
because so many guys just close their eyes.
Those men who pressed like wolves, eyes always closed,
cared not to understand or love my heart.
While making out with them, I nearly dozed!
How rare must be the man who knows the art
of looking long with gaze unwavering
and softly brushing mouth against the cheek,
who gently teases in his savoring
as only eyes and tracing fingers speak.
How sweet the magic seldom loosed in me
by those few gents who simply knew to see.
Sonneteer55/ Dec. 23, 2011
Using my yahoo pseudonym for the "S"
of Sonnet form.
For David Williams' "Romance" Poetry Contest
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2011
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