Submit Your Poems
Get Your Premium Membership

Best Hair Poems

Below are the all-time best Hair poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of hair poems written by PoetrySoup members

View ALL Hair Poems

Search for Hair poems, articles about Hair poems, poetry blogs, or anything else Hair poem related using the PoetrySoup search engine at the top of the page.

Definition & Discussion of Hair Poems
Read Hair Poems

See also: Best Famous Poems

Details | Hair Poem | |

Dream Boy

My favorite verse from THE soft rock song of my youth
Hit song of 1969 by the Carpenters:

(They Long To Be) Close To You
    (middle stanza of the song)

"On the day that you were born

the angels got together and decided

to create a dream come true

so they sprinkled moon dust in your hair

of gold and starlight in your eyes of blue."

Dream Boy

To fall for him I needed just one look
and after that, he had me on his hook -
a fact which I’m not sure he even knew!
Dream boy with hair of gold and eyes of blue.

I lived for those church dances in his town.
I’d see him there but always feel let down.
Girls followed him around. What could I do?
Dream boy with hair of gold and eyes of blue.

Not being in his orbit or his school,
I longed for him and simply played the fool.
The fantasy for me would not come true!
Dream boy with hair of gold and eyes of blue.

Dedicated to Chris Frogley, wherever now he may be.

For the "I Love Rock 'N roll" Poetry contest of Kelly Deschler

Details | Hair Poem | |

Mother's Crown of Pink

My mother’s hair hung thick and to her waist.
But seldom did she wear it in that way,
for always in a bun she had it placed
til it was loosed and on her pillow lay.

She sometimes tells me how I'd kidded her.
When I was small, I said, “Your hair is pink!”
From how she tells this story, I infer
I must have caused her tender heart to sink.

She aged, yet grey was sparse upon her head.
We said, “An older woman cuts her hair.”
Mom acquiesced and lost those locks rare red
she’d humbly worn for years when young and fair.

She’s nearly eighty now, bobbed hair turned brown,
And how I miss her once “pink” glory crown.

By Andrea Dietrich

Details | Hair Poem | |

Silver Strands

Her dark hair, laced with silver strands,
cascaded once with sable glint,
then lost (with drifting of the sands
of time) the chasteness of its tint.

It still grows long, but she has kept
her dark hair laced with silver strands
pulled back, attractively upswept,
at times enwrapped in stylish bands.

She misses days of few demands,
the ragtop down, her locks wind-tossed.
Her dark hair laced with silver strands
reminds her now of all she's lost. . .

She combs it out in dying light
of dusk and dreams a lover's hands
touch something soft as moon-streaked night,
her dark hair, laced with silver strands.



Details | Hair Poem | |

Wind

The wind rustles your hair as the sun brings joy .

It tells your secrets and they are well kept.

They go where it is needed turning gracefully.

Will you dance again?

 

What about your joy?

Its buried now and your hair is gone.

Birds dancing and your bare arms reach for me.

Saves the last dance.

 

I love your cold breath and the heat.

Your almost home.

But you will leave  as before.

Dance for me.

Details | Hair Poem | |

A Lovers World And Dreamers Dream

Hope lives on a four leaf clover.
Greener pastures when yesterday's over.
My heart spins when her hair gets twirled.
And I start to shake in this lovers world.

I walked around the corner and stayed awhile.
That's where I was when I seen her smile.
I felt more in that moment than in my whole life.
Straight to my heart just like a knife.

I've made that turn a time or two.
But theres no turning round now that it's you.
The sun came up on the other side.
Took away any shadow where I can hide.

Destiny delivered a dream for two.
Everything has suddenly become pink and blue.
I can't help but wait for the bubble to pop.
Borrowed trouble in this dream balloon shop.

Hope lives on a four leaf clover. 
Greener pastures when yesterday's over.
My heart spins when her hair gets twirled.
And I start to shake in this lovers world.

Details | Hair Poem | |

The Golden Hour

Gorgeous boy, your skin shines in the sun’s golden hour.
Waves of your jet-black hair, short-cropped like Caesar's 
dripping tendrils on a chiseled brow, wisps beside each ear
A bare-chested Apollo cycles in low-slung shorts.

Waves of your jet-black hair, short-cropped like Caesar's, 
my ardeur imagines eyes a molten sapphire blue.
A bare-chested Apollo cycles in low-slung shorts,
calves taunt, thigh muscles pumping, a true stallion.

My ardeur imagines eyes a molten sapphire blue.
surely, the night sky is less beautiful than your eyes,
Legs with calves taunt, thigh muscles pumping, a stallion,
lovely man-child, whose dreams will you soon make true?

Surely, the night sky is less beautiful than your eyes.
Dripping tendrils on a chiseled brow, wisps beside each ear,
lovely man-child, whose dreams will you soon make true?
Gorgeous boy, your skin shines in the sun’s golden hour.


Details | Hair Poem | |

Self inflicted blues

This day I grow tired
and so incredibly weary.
My heart holds only dreams
of a Life unfullfilled
A Life not nurtured,
yet barely a glimmer
of the spirit that once was.

I do have memories of some things good 
-not all bad,
But the fear that I am alone
is Like a fingerprint on my Life.

Shadowing, waiting to pounce,
always there, unshakeable.

It's the mirrors that hold me accountable
to my actions.
Proof positive that where ever I go
there I am,
Naked, vulnerable, and yes
still alone.

As I try to allay this fear, 
one Lonely and painful pluck at a time,
It becomes crystal clear, that I alone
am damaging my soul to the very core
with each stroke of my hand.

I steal one Last Look in the mirror
and know that I alone
have self inflicted these blues
Leaves me to ponder one question:

Will I ever allow myself the strength and grace
it will surely take to heal my scarred soul?                        
                                                      
  



This poem was written in hopes of begining the healing process for my self. I 
have a disease called trichiotillamania. It is an obsessive and manic urge to pull 
one's own hair until baldness occurs. I'm a 48 year old woman, married(with kids 
& grand kids)and have been doing this since the age of 5. It coincided with the 
begining of my stepfather raping and torturing me which lasted until the age of 
thirteen. This disease has me trapped and is NEVER letting me go. There are 
two inflictions in regards to my hair pulling in this poem, one must know about 
my disease in order to understand this poem.

Details | Hair Poem | |

Worst Love Poem Ever Written

I suck at dying poems
Chemo poems, Metastatic Cancer poems,
Hair falling out in the shower poems
 
And I told a half truth
When I told you I could write you one
In less than six months (It's been eight)
I apologize for being so late

 
I wanted your poem to be pink and graceful
Like those ribbons
I see all over the internet
Filled with cheesy generic rhymes
That read like a Hallmark audition

  But already my metaphors are melting
And my similes are getting soft
 I guarantee you the rhyme meter will be off

 When I went to Google
And the typed in the word 'happy'
Three billion links came up

Not a single inference to
Breast cancer, hair loss
No redirects to mastectomies
Yahoo wasn't any kinder

 
The only thing research could teach me
Is that a good day on chemo
Is when your stool doesn't come out tar Black
And has no blood in it

Or when your urine
Smells better on Wednesday
Than it did on Tuesday

Sleeping less than 12 hours
When 24 would be better

  
America has more poets
Than it does alcoholics
   And Pot smokers combined
And you chose me to be
Your Breast Cancer
Poet Laureate

Trusting me to write a poem
About the biggest battle in your life

So I refuse to finish this poem
Without something bright and hopeful
 
And don't think
I didn't notice your Facebook activity
Had decreased by 88%
In the last three months

 
And you aren't really
Coming to any more of my poetry shows
Ever again. Are you??
But we still have March, April
Don't we?

 
But even if you had one breast
Or no breast

Or if you had less hair than I do
I promise to look only in your eyes
And never ever even notice
Or even think about it

And never for a moment
Would I feel sorry for you

Yes I suck at lying too...

 
But I don't suck at loving you
Or at hoping you wake up tomorrow morning
 With no Cancer at all
And that The Eiffel Tower will be right outside
Your bedroom window...

And I would be right there with you
Holding your hand while we look down on Paris
And you can impress me with your French again

 
And if I ever make it
To the Pulitzer Poetry board
I might lose a thousand points
Just for this poem alone

And my hopes for the prize will be smitten
And some old person 
With white hair will say
That was the worst love poem ever written


Details | Hair Poem | |

All about Dan

So you want to get to know me,ok well here goes It's already in my poetry,but I may have left something out who knows? For the last twenty years I've been wearing Nike shoes,hightops that are black They're alot easier to clean then white ones I must say,that is a definite fact My friends all seem to like me and I greet them all with a big smile I've met alot of them through a life of partying,but now thats been over for a while My favorite book is the bible,because whenever I read it I learn something new My favorite movie I couldn't really tell you,since I have seen oh quite a few My favorite song is from Tim Mcgraw,it's"Live Like You Were Dying" In a funny kind of way it refreshes my soul,and I usually end up crying Favorite singer I don't really have one,so I guess it would have to be myself Because I just love it when I sing all the words and don't need anyones help My hair is a dirty blond thats straight,short and very fine It doesn't have a single curl and I know it's all still mine My favorite shampoo is Pert it leaves my hair so silky smooth With the fine and thining hair that I have,it's the one I prefer to use My favorite food is pizza,but fresh baked bread is my favorite smell If I had a food I'd eat everyday that is the one that would put me through hell I have everything I need,with only a few things that I dislike The only thing I want or really need is the love of my loving wife
Dan Kearley:5-25-12 Contest:All About ____???

Details | Hair Poem | |

Farm Girl

On a Sussex farm works a golden haired girl
Surrounded by guys as she makes their hearts twirl
But her love and soul are miles away
In a Highlanders heart, she hopes to meet one day.
 
Its nearly a year since they were first in touch
As she's grown to adore him oh so much
Her delight will be, is too invite him down
And show him round her lovely town.
 
Her joy and smiles, as she holds his hand
Her heart pounding as she feels a million grand
Stopping for cuddles as they share a kiss
With her Highlander she's in sheer bliss.
 
The countryside where this English Rose stays
Flowering crops grow and animals graze
Noisy tractors Harvesters reap
Under a blistering sun, the baaing of sheep.
 
In her yellow dress, flowing golden hair
She takes his hand, as they climb the stair
Above up here is where we keep the hay
Again she takes his hand and down they lay.
 
Facing each other they start to kiss
This English rose in her mind she wish
To share her body with her Highlander
To adjoin their bodies as their loving stirs.
 
As they undress each other on this summers day
Bare skin warms the golden hay
Passions flow as their hands explore
Loving scent from their loving pores
Joys and sighs, they feel their bodies mix
Emotions and feelings in adrenalin fix.
 
Warmed and content,consumed in each others arms
Two heavenly bodies sharing each others charms
Kissing and cuddling on the flattened hay
As they stand up and look where they just once lay.
 
Dishevelled clothes, hair astray 
This loving couples summers play
Standing embrace their bodies quiver
Holding hands they head to the river.
 
At the river bank they undress each other
Under a shaded green leafy cover
Her naked body and long golden hair
Makes him proud to be standing there.
 
As they enter the river 
They caress and wash each other
Under this shaded leafed cover
They kiss and embrace to share their love
Under the leafy tree, chirping birds all above.
 
Heading home hand in hand
This loving couple feeling two million grand
They head to bed, spooned and cosy
This Highlander and his English Rosie.


http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/love.php

Details | Hair Poem | |

-Nose hair madness-

I think I saw one I move a little closer there’s another one nose hair can be disgusting Nikko should I pull them out?
*Nikko's body part of choice nose hair lol*

Details | Hair Poem | |

Rarely Met A Better Man

We communicate without language,
Gestures,symbols,motions of a hand.
He understands my language. 
I struggle with his.
But somehow we make it work.
We've lived together 14 years now,
Never thought to make it legal. 
Our love could not be 
More committed with a license .
He likes his hair long,
I prefer him less tousled
Though he does look appealing
When the hair fall in his eyes.

To find a partner like him is rare,
Although he has wandered on brief occasions.
I close the door behind him, but never turn the lock.
He always manages to find his way home,
With  downtrodden posture and liquid eyes.
I allow him to share my bed again,
After he grovels at my feet.
My heart has grown  soft for him over time.
I overlook his laziness and graying hair.
Smitten by his warm body and childlike ways.
Oh Theo, life at times is so unfair.
Though only a dog, I've rarely met a better man.

Details | Hair Poem | |

Romany Gypsy

With flashing eyes she did enthral
as to the beat of drums she danced
a wild flamingo with clacking castanets
her wide hooped skirt was all a-swirl

Golden earrings sparkling and flashing
heels looking impossibly high as she twirls
her eyes flashing enticing messages 
as the men flock to her a mocking laugh

Siren of the senses as well she knows
she taunts and teases as she grabs hold
only to push her admirer head over heels
leaving him stunned and dazed in the dirt

In a puff of smoke she vanishes from view
long rolls of drums call to her to come back
the men look in vain for her return
a soft voice enticingly calls from the shadows

Singing of long journeys to far away exotic places
of caravan wheels swishing and of horses gavotting
of smokey camp fires bristling with full cauldrons
no clue to what lies within just enticing smells

She tells of lovers she has known in distant past
entreating the men, who try their luck to no avail
she sits brushing her long raven black hair of curls
and the sparks fly giving her an ethereal appearance

The fires die low and still she has not yet chosen
it seems she is waiting for someone not now here
flashes of lightening fork across the sullen skies
and the skies open in deluges of rain and thunder

As her admirers scatter seeking shelter she laughs
spinning round and round hair flying out scattering
droplets that glisten and sparkle in pale light
at last she crumbles done to the sodden ground 

A mighty flash of lightening rends the sky in half
highlighting a jet black horse rearing up high
she runs forward laughing he is here, he has come
her gypsy king, he swings her up before him and turns

As the summer storm fades the last fork shows
the two lovers high-lit on the rolling hill
then gone, gone to their secret place of tryst
she leaves lingering memories in men's minds of what might have been

Details | Hair Poem | |

The Wisdom of Wine and Gin

My hair has receded and my belly grown fat
There’s hair growing in my ears and I don’t like that
My joints ache all the day and I have troubles with peeing
I’m tired all the time and have glasses for seeing
Gravity has taken over putting life in a downward spin
No wonder I enjoy drinking a little wine and gin

Details | Hair Poem | |

Sometimes I Feel Beautiful

Sometimes I Feel Beautiful
Driving along thinking about what I’m about to do brings a smile to my face. Without a doubt my hair and nails make a big difference in the way I feel about myself! When I look pretty; I feel pretty.
Today my nails will be done in pink and white, oh yes, perfect they shall be. Nothing short of looking delicate and refined I tell myself. I am so excited; the anticipation brings joy into my heart and laughter to my lips! 
My hair appointment is closing in. High lights and shaping adds a playful and fun demeanor. Beautiful is how it’s going to look and beautiful is how I’ll feel. I almost need to pinch myself for I wonder is this really happening to me! Tears sting my eyes and giggles flow forth. Yes; this is my life and this is happening to me!
Thinking of my new makeup and how youthful I’m going to look brings joy into this heart of mine. I can hardly wait to put it on as the excitement builds; I dance around and giggle. I feel so beautiful thinking how perfect I’ll look with everything finished.
At times I tell myself, “I know he loves me, I can tell”. The glowing in his eyes seems to sparkle with love and passion. My Heart beats a little faster as excitement and wonder fills my entire being! Yes, this is how it should always be, a life filled with joy and laughter.
Finding ways to look beautiful helps me feel beautiful. It’s this that causes me to giggle and dance about. The unbridled excitement loosened, flowing through my veins fills me with love and wanting. Tomorrow just maybe this joy will add new meaning and direction causing me to continue feeling beautiful..
                                                                                           Debbie Knapp

Details | Hair Poem | |

The Funny Side of Suicide

A friend of mine once inquired 
if I had suicide on my brain. 
"EVERY TIME I SEE YOU...
you chase away the rain." 

She looked a little puzzled 
but thanked me none the less, adding:
"Are you sure you're not contemplating 
the end of all your stress?"

"Why," said I, "should I decide
to end this life sublime
when all I want right here and now
is one more round of wine?"

"So cut the crap, go take a nap
or bring me red rose',
you're killing me with your questions
and all I want to do is play!"

Still she could not let it go
and asked me once again -
"Are you SURE you're not considering 
a permanent vacation, my friend?"

"Enough, enough of all this stuff
regarding grassy graves,
If you ask me one more time again
it's yours that will be made!"

And so she finally took the hint 
that I'm finer than a frogs hair cut - 
Never the less, I thanked her profusely
for caring so very much. 

* Inspired by a very special lady here in PSoup (who shall remain anonymous), recently  concerned about my state of mind.  I couldn't help but be impressed and touched by her genuine concern and felt compelled to reassure her that I'm "Finer than a frogs hair cut."  On a more serious note, REAL suicide is nothing to laugh about and if this poem offends anyone, I sincerely apologize and mean no disrespect to anyone touched by it's sad results.  All the best, Terry

Details | Hair Poem | |

My Fair Maiden

I called upon yonder window That was up to high for me to be For my maiden gracefully sleeps there In her bed,beside the sea I asked her to come hither For her beautiful face I yearned to see Twas yawning in the morning dew As she slowly came to the window for me To my amazement came forth a ragged wench Whos hair was as raged as the sea With eyes that were burnt as nightposts To bloodshot and squinty to even see For this was not my fair maiden? Whos beauty would forever be But a drunken harlot who came hither That she spent the night with instead of me My heart now broken to pieces Wondering how could this tragedy be? For my maiden now sleeps with a harlot? Without the love that she once gave to me? My mind was now enraged So I dashed for the wrestling sea With thoughts of drowning this useless body That's no longer good enough for my maiden to see With water just over waist height And a large wave about to crash over me I heard a calling from yonder window Twas my beautiful maiden as I turned to see Her beautiful eyes in such distress Her beautiful hair flowing so care free Twas the beauty of my fair maiden That I had called upon yonder window to see For the thoughts that raced through my mind Evidently,weren't truely what happend to be For it was her promiscuous sister Who had come from the other side of the sea My heart now rebuilt with a sigh of love A large wave suddenly crashes over me The last thing I saw was my fair maiden As my lifeless body is carried out by the sea
DannyBoy:1-24-13

Details | Hair Poem | |

Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde's Love Poem

I love how your long chestnut hair flows over your gentle shoulders,
And when the sun searches you out for a moment, your hair sparkles…

Because I lit a match and threw it into that rat infested hair ball that you
Waste all your time on.  Next up is your head which I’m going to rip…

Don’t listen to him.  I’m mesmerized by your deep blue eyes, when they lovingly
Gaze In my direction.  I will never make you shed a tear, my dear…

But I’m going to kick you about this filthy house.  It looks like all you’ve
Done all day is piss in the wind.  And stop your crying; your baggy eyes are…

Ignore him, my love.  Your soft, gentle touch upon my face arouses my senses to new Heights.  All my cares wash away as your aquiline hand slowly glides along my arm…

What the hell does he know?  If you don’t get your boney hand off me, I’m going to break it In half.  And the next time I catch you trying to be nice I’m going to throw you out with…

Stop that, Hyde.  Sorry, my love, but as I was saying, your body is a masterpiece sculpted out of the finest treasures.  I’m in awe of its supple curves, how it flinches to the touch…

Oh, shut up Doc, you’re killing me.  And speaking of killing, I feel like pummeling
The living daylights out of your emaciated, piece of good for nothing…

Please be mine baby, before I’m lost forever to…

I’m in charge, so get over here and take it like…

I’m fading, my love.  Hurry, say you’ll be mine.  Save us.

I’m going to tear you apart.  You’re no baby, you’re a…

Save me, before the monster wins…

Too late, Dr., she will be all mine soon…

Just a kiss, my dear.  Just a…

‘Slap’, take that b****...

One kiss.  Now!  -The Dr. and his lover kiss-  Thank you, my love.  Let that vile 
Monster rest in peace, so that we will be left in peace from it for evermore.


Details | Hair Poem | |

Legend of The White Pumpkin

Legend has it
She cast her spell to gain his love
With a lock of his hair and feather of a dove
He murdered her on all hallows night
Then planted a pumpkin on her grave site
White as her hair the pumpkin did grow
Legend says it is so


Wow 50 words burns up quick
that was harder than i thought
it would be.

Details | Hair Poem | |

Oh Your Beauty

UNSUPPORTED CODE Your beauty extends Into the heaven Whispering secrets of Happiness and affection. You look up at me and smile With crinkles in the Corners of your eyes. The smooth beauty of bare skin, Soft stroke of hair like feathers. I'm lost in the smell of Your hair & skin, Your eyes pierce my soul. Gaze upon me With those eyes again, I'm longing to be lost In your embraces. You are exquisite fire, A smooth burn of wild beauty. Your curly, long, light-burgundy hair frames An exquisite blend of exotic beauty. Your touch sends me over the edge, A longing which no verses can describe.

Details | Hair Poem | |

The Bottomless Pit

From the bottom of an abandoned gravel pit
behind my childhood home, seated, 
leaning against its hardpacked sandy side,
he watched the July sun set,
the empty prescription bottle at his side.

Did he walk that day to his unnatural fate
slowly, shoulders rolling like a big cat,
alternating first one, then the other, 
forward, head bent, one black errant
curl tumbling across his troubled forehead.

Did he hesitate or did he hurry
and did he think of me, just 12,
soon to be fatherless, before he
began his two weeks of decomposing
in the hot Texas sun until
the man on horseback found him
while looking for a lost calf. 

I couldn't blame my mother 
for the divorce she filed.
I had wanted him to leave, too,
and hadn't I prayed he would die
when he dragged her over the yard,
by a handful of her hair clasped
tightly in his fist,
because she had cut it without his permission.
		
Especially the next day when I found
the clump of auburn hair caught in the lush 
purple blooms of the wisteria bush,
I wanted him to die.

He played his harmonica for me,
and I sang, "Daddy's Little Darling, 
Don't you think I'm sweet?"
But I prayed my dad would die,
and though I asked God to ignore those
prayers of terror, I will never be able to
love enough wayward men to save my dad.



Details | Hair Poem | |

Its a Hair Affair

I can see you stop and stare
At my horrible purple hair
I declare ,life is so not fair
For I tried and tried to repair
This miserable hair affair
Some advice Id like to share
Of changing appearance be aware
 Follow directions with great care
Or you may gaze with sad despair
  ........  At a head of purple hair



Just written in jest
For the new contest

Details | Hair Poem | |

No Way of Telling?

In a blue morning sky

I watched her going

As she turned to say goodbye

Her strawberry auburn hair still blowing

In this heart deep inside

Inside her smile....

Where her love shall reside

These tears not knowing

That our time in this place

A place that left us

With a rose petal trace....

While seasons passed by

Now alone, to fade away

Her strawberry auburn hair still blowing

Across her dark chocolate eyes

Her spirit going....

And I can't find a verse

To say I'm sorry

For this chance unrehearsed

Where beauty found us

In the still of the night....

When words were whispered

From two souls that collide

But now their parting 

These dreams....

In a black darkened hearse

That calendars carried

To this day in reverse

No way of knowing

While she turns back again

Her driver waiting....

As I then drop my hand

And watch her going

On the breeze that brought her here

Her beauty leaving

Water marks upon this heart

Which let her walk on....

Before these tear brim filled skies

These eyes which held her

In the still loving nights

Where flowers blossomed

This song deep inside

Two souls colliding....

On a path drawn for life

A life now fading

With these dreams that we shared

That see her going

Before she turns to say goodbye

Afore this knowing....

Dark shadowed sky

Her beauty lingers

As I then sweep these eyes

Inside her smiles

Now frozen tears....

I watch her leaving

While we both, wave goodbye

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

No way of telling?

Details | Hair Poem | |

Under the Waterfall

Wings flutter
     off in the distance
as I shuffle through these stones,
tasting the energy trapped in each,
scouring my lands
         for my lost crystal,
that which can mend
what I’ve torn asunder.

In frustration
   I abandon my quest,
deciding to find
     my feathery deity,
the wind carries her scent to me
and I head Northeast,
  diving through brush
          and dodging trees
like only a Lycan may.
She must have picked up on my intentions
for I sense her
  heading towards me
so I veer more northward,
   there’s a place I know.

As I draw near  
   you can hear water
      cascading off rocks,
when I arrive the moon is up,
clouds curled beneath it
as if it were a white pearl
  resting on gray cushions,
to the right 
   the beginnings of a river
being fed by the waterfall,
about 80’ tall
  careening off the three
stone outcroppings
and filling the air in the clearing 
with a fine mist,
 the left is ringed
by long needled pines
which have supplied the ground
with a soft cushion.

My winged beauty
lands on the third outcropping
whipping her hair back
under the waterfall’s edge.
I sprint to the water’s shore
and leap to the first,
as my claws connect
bound to the second,
paws touching
   then legs thrust me 
to the third
where I bring myself erect,
   better to ensnare my love
within my arms.

As I bring her close to me
she raises her left hand up
and caresses my muzzle and cheek
with her claws,
I bend downward
    and gently
sink my teeth
into the side of her neck,
she springs off the precipice ,
    me entwined,
and glides down to the pine needle bed.

As we land 
  she pushes herself up,
drags her right claw
down my chest
     and leans in to drink.
I drag one nail along
    each shoulder blade 
and let her blood
   drip down on me
while I lick my claws clean.

After hours
   she crashes down
into my chest,
exhaustion settling in.
I cup my hand around the back of her head,
   hair entwined
in my fingers
and as she uses her wings
to blanket us
we drift off
into a pleasant slumber
while the stars blink at us
and the night creatures
serenade us with their calls.

Details | Hair Poem | |

Delilah's Story- Part I

She ran her finger through sun kissed locks
As he lay sleeping in her bed
His handsome face smiled in a dream 
Her breasts the pillow for his head

How she wanted their night to last
But soon t’would be the break of day
When he would arise and then be gone
Her charm could not make him stay

But, oh how she did adore him
As she gazed at his muscled form
Even more than she loved his strength
Was his passion that took her by storm

She had lain often  in this bed
With countless other horrid men
But none had ever touched her heart
As this man fast asleep right then

Earlier she’d once more asked him
That which would bring her wealth and fame
She asked as she slowly undressed
“Delilah, your question’s the same.”

“But, Samson if you do love me
You’ll share your secret that’s profound”
Then she molded herself to him
He couldn’t breathe or make a sound

He moaned as she touched and pleased him
But she knew timing must be right
Before she’d let him possess her
Her vict’ry had to be in sight

She called him in the grip of passion
“Your strength drives me insane
But, Samson, if I don’t know the secret
You’ll never touch me like this again”

His hair flowed down all about her
Curtaining all except his face
“You’ll always be mine, Delilah
My hair is my God given grace.”

Then she closed her eyes and let go
And they both tasted ecstasy
Now he lay spent on her full breasts
Would she let her strong man go free?

Eileen Manassian Ghali