Best Cherry Red Poems

As a young girl growing up in the 50s and 60s, Hollywood’s glamorous and glitzy lifestyle fascinated me. Popular actresses such as Jane Russell, Ava...

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How cold it was that one December day.
We’d put on boots and walked into the wood,
but in new-fallen snow, we lost our way.
As dusk began...

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It has stood for decades along the county gravel road.
Skittering mice and barn owls now call it their abode.

What was once a stately building is...

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Thirsty

I could tell right away he was up ta sum thin.
I could see it in doze beady eyes!
His wordz were smooth in a snake like...

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Woman

The stars bestowed your eyes
The moon, your cherry red lips
The sun, that light in your mind
Heaven, those gold finger tips

The oceans surrendered your hair
Your form,...

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Painful Perspectives
                Bullying in America

"About 77% of students have admitted...

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Nebulous streams, clouding my brain
     hoping my thoughts will fall like rain.
Thunder and lightning mix the brew
    ...

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I’d kissed at least one boy by age fourteen.
Disappointment was the taste it left.
Although it was short, it was far from sweet.
In contrast, my second...

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the unzipped match —
a flame that heats the tips of fingers,
those sensitive appendages
that linger,
upon the cheek,
the whiskers.

erogenous zones touched by the flame,
like candles arouse
compatible birthday...

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Nebulous streams, clouding my brain
Vapor trail dreams, from paper airplanes
Cherry red glow, watch with no chain
Ribbons and bows, tied to the flames

Anchors on strings, hanging...

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Full and luscious lips
Tempting treat to hungry eye
Flashback memories
Hot lips in constant pursuit
Now chastity vow taken

Other lips await
Longing to explore and claim
Willing travelers  ...

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Such beauty set before these eyes, longing for closure of the desire of my 
being. My skin aches for your touch, gentle and tender; desiring.

Lost...

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Of all of the beautiful seasons, I like summertime the best.
As with blooms, greenery, and bird talk, it is richly blest.

When comes dazzlingly warm weather,...

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It can’t be art 

Spun in a windstorm of caustic insisting
Plastered like mud on the walls of Pompeii
Frescos of joy before charcoal was misting
Writing in...

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It is the evening I have waited for, 
stiletto heels three inches high adorned my feet,
real nylons hung from garters beneath a
skin tight, leather skirt...

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