Could this be my destiny ?
Saturday in my porcelain womb,
Enfolded in the arms of Mother Nature’s embryonic fluid.
That state - in-between – just before one leaves
consciousness in order to arrive , into the subconscious.
That place between wakefulness and the land of dreams
where life is surrealistically sharper, deeper then reality
and clearer then that of images, in the world of dreams.
In this fantastic state of being, I felt and I touched
a beautiful world of pink, where life begins, and begins!
My lips, my tongue, my finger tips sailed across your body.
They caressed every atom of your being – stroked your soul
from your head to your little toe, and back to the pink,
where your sweet lips met mine, lubricating my tongue
with delicious honey, in the most passionate, French kissing
your motherhood has ever, will ever know – my dream, not yours.
The reverie of my Saturday, I would love to make your reality.
B. J. “A” 2
February 18th 2007
Copyright © William J. Jr. Atfield | Year Posted 2012
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.