Best Fondle Poems
The powder of white sand holds her flesh
close to his musk pelvis
as she gasps with the murmured waves
trembling on the coast
of a fragrant mouth against a manly tongue,
and they lay on hidden grass
in an old Ipanema cove
where rippling strokes fondle
the east and north of her sylph-like
curves: amidst the liquid Brazilian dusk,
her flowing hair sinks from the lapping
of crest in rhythmic grinds;
tanned fingers exploring
a soft canal of a nymph's heightened pleasure…
by the sea- bend, he pulls her creamy thighs
like a driftwood sailing
afloat upon each quivered abandon
while they melt under balmy trees…
without the need to speak.
...........................
100 in a ROW contest -- 11
She lovingly smiles at him each evening
dressed in palest silk, a gossamer gown,
brushed with hints of silverdust shadows.
Her shapely fullness casts a womanly glow
across his surface in ripples of light.
Enthralled by her shimmering beauty,
he waves to her from Baltic blue depths
of his longing and unspoken passion.
Her reflection swims in his crests and troughs
as he cradles the embodiment of her perfection.
Crested fingers rise to fondle her magnificence
but vast distance keeps them too far apart.
Her heart guides the ebbing and flowing
of his tides in their nightly dance, spent romancing.
Fluidly, he waltzes her in rhythm to the shore,
serenaded by a chorus of flickering stars
singing a tune written eons before
Gershwin could dream of Rhapsody in Blue.
Little more could either of them do as
their song wafted in a dolorous lover's lament
known by humans but perceived by few
as a divergent love between two of Earth's forces
whose liaison would be a tragedy for me and you
No flame within!
do I hold for you
no delightful delicacy
shall I put to rhyme.
No picturesque words
in italics of your
woeful wildlife, no
acknowledgement of
the ancient mariner, he
that crossed the margin
of our “Atlas of the world.”
(Still in use, [I believe] in the
old stone museum.)
One can easily live in fear
of your many mordant moods,
to see you capture the
embracing horizon, where warring
clouds fondle the sunlight,
and the departing QE 2 is
reduced to microcosm.
How can one live in awe of
you, when at the end of each
day you snatch at the light of
sustenance, therefore
giving license to the veil
of damnation, soon to be cast
out of the east, driving impending
fears to languish upon the
unholy waters of the Styx?
(An extraction of the mind,
an evaporation of the memory
the spray dried brain
tossed into oblivion.)
Yet each morning an
interval to one’s ongoing
nightmare, when with renewed
levitation, the new light reprieved!
Begins avidly it’s universal
journey across Manukau’s
“Pack ‘n’ Save” Car park.
Oh yes! It is so easy to hate you;
you that brought the rest of
the world here, you that constitutes
a world within a world, that,
where the cycle of life creates it’s
own constitution, each player
judged on cue, to become an act of
fodder, mobile supermarkets
in ferocious competition with
nothing at all to give.
“Unless death itself is a gift!”
Upon the surface your
treachery still lingers, there,
tenacious tentacles lurk
within the sedulous surf,
groping blindly at sedated
rocks, those pinnacles of sanctuary
that harbour the weary,
support the rod.
Only when gravitation truly
intervenes, does the perpetual
invasion subside, leaving one in
no doubt about your promiscuity!
© Harry J Horsman 1993
Call me evil
Call me names
Call me
Kiss me on the lips
Kiss my heart
Kiss me
Wrap me in your arms
Hold me within your breasts
Whisper your longings
Touch me with your voice
Touch me with your caress
Touch me
Fondle the thought of forever
Fondle the thought of longing
Fondle me
Dance for the happiness inside of you
Dance to wash away your tears
Dance into my arms
Walk the path of wisdom
Run towards my heart
Kiss contentment
The sword of lust is shining
A dozen daffodils to undress your heart
Flower me with kisses
Call me
August wind, glass moon,serendipity...
two chairs gazing at each other in tender flow.
Hundred miles away, clouds gather
to fondle the opening and closing
of after- midnight refrains,
both trespassing a continental divide
to awaken upon scrolls of ramblings
united by the sorcery of mystic spaces
between humid lenses.
On such lit evenings, I will surrender
to the maleness of a trembling heart ;
your cheeks swollen like yeast…a shaven head,
the blue of your shirt buried in my cellar
unbuttoning the heaving pauses
between the nearness of our skin…
Chairs grind in wanton anticipation of palms
touching my hair… you whisper,
“ I adore you beyond words.”... and I; I falter
while a glint climbs into the almond of my Oreo eyes…
The scent of hours lingers as we wrap our fingers
into morn, owning a body language in play of charades…
Your mouth hushed, searching the curves of my spine
glazed by soft bites of an August wind
brushing our lips…until the slide screen fades off,
and we are dissolved into a paradise inhabiting
unborn stars. In raw enchantment, our warmed glances
wait for a next time, as if a tarot of angels
had known about serendipity.
PD's Best Love Poem # 3
One memory, found, has cradled this moment,
exquisitely composed with infinite detail.
Once lost with disease,
it is briefly retrieved,
just for this moment, before it is gone.
She smiles as she holds it,
as if it has pleased her,
a small golden flashback
to fondle awhile.
It came from the darkness,
like a small shaft of light,
on a small mote of dust
that has tumbled in flight
Poised in the sunlight
it has cradled the moment
But, then is forgotten
while it falls out of sight
back into the shadows
that cradle the night
________________________________________________
7/5/16
Contest: Cradling the Moment
Sponsor: Julia Ward
I've somehow pondered about the
rush of air
of how I could be lulled on billows, and
yet,
its notes upon my flesh eludes me--
as if in midnight trailing, weeping in refrains
this cadence glides beyond
streetlamps
on to my litanies, my expectations, my
tears
until I'm drenched by a melody ambient
as the sound of breeze.
Like a rain-child born in January
with taps in my veins, I become
a listener of seasons' tingling tunes
which inhabit my thoughts : and to
know my heart's kept secrets are
cuddled through this rhythmic hisses,
arias of both my dark and lustrous hours.
Now I trace the reel of fleeting memories dating from youth to mid- adult...this old wind chime wrapped in chrome
and antique stones fondle
timeless music whipped by storms,
rhapsodies, deaths of my
life...a hanging rune delivering me
from all I must bear--
though owned by Mom's as a hoard or collection, it was my precious harbinger:
but it echoes no more
in spaces where I loved, and still
need to love back...
Gazing at this chime of four decades drifting gently on the room knob, it has
become mute, aged... but cared for like a most treasured keepsake.
Red roses true
Skies so blue
Lovers doing what lovers do
Chocolates and confessions
of eternal love
Building up hopes and dreams
I, behind the counter
At the ripe old age of 69
Watch all the youth
Filled with hope and desire
Love is like clouds in the carefree sky
They all stare and thrust
Hoping to latch onto a dream
Reality is not so kind
Illusions die on the ides
Kisses left unfulfilled
Roses with more thorns than hope
Wine so sour, blood is in flavor
Ah, but for now they are all happy
Holding hands and bouquets
Pink roses and red carnations
The road they know not to damnation
Who am I? To spoil a dream
Who am I? To laugh when they scream
You see love was a knife
That murdered me long, long ago
I may breathe, but the death possessed me
The life all but left me
So tonight as lovers kiss and fondle
I wish them well, from far over yonder
I kicked out the chair
The rope taunt and tight
As my last breath
Whispered to my long lost love
Good night
Come gently like a winding trellis
stroking my shape as you fondle
my vulnerability, and tease,
tease curves of my spine with whispers
to unleash what is half-awake in my eyes,
draping my flesh with the scent
of this moistened night…
And I am lost among fibrous roots
clinging to a warm pistil
like a raging dart,a moonlit flame.
Your bended arms warmly mount
my transparent skin,
only to hold back as the dizzy air
blows these ruffled tresses
smelling of earth and jasmine...
You gaze at the cleavage
of an open mouth, wandering
on a tight pulse between
the trellis of desire...how in this
hungry glow, I cannot explain why
your irises slay me bare;
that on a sweltering duskfall
so mysteriously anonymous,
I seem to ask you to come gently
and touch my waiting steam.
Contest of Lewis Raynes That Is Sexy
6/22/2016
Despite the distance,
like moon and ocean,
I feel her close, but
touchless and tasteless.
Craving her comfort.
like a thief without
his precious treasure,
I yearn for one glimpse.
Tongue is silent, but
as spirits ignite,
'urges' call her name.
Her voice cools embers,
as souls dream to meet.
Soft tones of her heart
flutter so tranquil.
Calmness of her waves,
vibrate my heart's beam,
as my moonlight rays
fondle wet ripples,
absorbing deeper
like blended shadows,
merging ebony
and ivory strokes,
gently flowing like
lyrical lovers.
Adrift in her bliss,
hoping to merge like
tides kiss distant shores.
Her ink is my quill -
sprinkling our garden.
The Silent One
8 April 2021
Example for Anacreontic verse contest
Anacreontic verse is an Ancient Greek lyrical form, consisting of 20- to 30-
line poems with three to five syllables per line.
Developed by 6th century B.C. poet Anacreon. A form that emerged during the height of the dramatic, musical, artistic, and poetic culture.
The poems revolved around themes of love, infatuation, revelry, festivals, and observations of everyday life.
How can i behold your face again
when my eyes are ladden with tears?
How shall i hear the rushing wind of your voice
when my ears are deafened
by the silence within?
How shall i ever fondle your face again,
when my arms are withered by solitude?
At dawn i can not find you.
At noon i listen in vain for your laughter.
In the night season, my forlorn heart sighs
as it would its last.
The moon`s probing eye finds a way to my heart.
It is your reflection
that stretches in the dust.
Where once i had summer
i now have winter.
Your love which i once have felt
i now can feel no more.
You re so far away.
...so far away.
...so far away.
Her eyes appear brighter
Her voice whispers low
Her head on the pillow has risen, somehow
She is somewhere without us, somewhere back home
Lost from the present, to a place long ago
She's been lost in the shadows,.......... of where?
We don't know…
A spark has ignited to cradle this moment
Exquisitely composed with infinite detail.
From the essence of recall, it seems to become
a virtual illusion, as if she's gone home
Once lost in the darkness,
it is briefly retrieved,
just for this moment, before it is gone.
She smiles as she holds it,
as if it has pleased her,
a small golden flashback
to fondle awhile.
It came from a closet,
like a small shaft of light,
on a small mote of dust that has tumbled in flight
Poised in the sunlight it cradles the moment
Too brittle and fragile, too soon it is fading
And quickly to vanish, it falls out of sight
No trace and her face, will lose all the light
crawling into the shadows
that cradle the night
____________________________________________________________
5/9/18
Cliffs were sentinels reaching to the sky
Gulls chided my presence with loud decry
I scaled a hilltop to glimpse the sea
Piety washed in gentle waves over me
Never had I felt so humbled before,
watching fingers of foam fondle the shore
October 26, 2021
Bite Size Poem no24 Contest
Sponsor: Line Gauthier
Into the woods, soft leaves fondle the nape
*
Along a walk bathed in frost of moon pail
I bare myself before night goddess’ cape
And lay upon the edge where grasses sail ~ ~
While sacred rite bestows a holy grail.
*
Now, free is my body, my life compass
Where stars connect with skin on raw canvas
Tracing birthmarks from navel ripe as womb
• ~
In pure silence, light meets joy unsurpassed
One with birth’s flesh, Soul washes covered plume
~
~
Whispering apricot beams shine upon frilly sheers,
lazy shadows dance in daffodil dawn colors,
pirouettes of pleasured moments,
silently flowing on smooth brush stroke walls
You breathe, softly, the sweetest sonnet,
rhythmically exhaling beneath satin sheets
symphonic…bringing a grin to the sunrise,
blushing clouds hide behind a bashful horizon
Placing a gentle kiss upon rose petal shoulders,
you stir ever so slightly…eyes flutter like chiffon wings
hugging the pillow wistfully, floating within,
cascading between dreams of us
Exploring the mesmerizing curves of your body,
my lips touch warm porcelain skin,
the faintest sigh escapes, a smile appears
as your wispy fingers seek my own
Probing gentle folds, serene recesses of silken slivers
sipping the morn’s perfect elixir, ambrosia,
seeing your eyes wide open now
and falling once more deeply into their hypnotic beauty
Hands fondle my hair, wavy lengths, grasping
tickling heated embraces, melting into the warmth,
maple syrup cravings, sweetened stickiness in
pleasure flavored temptations
Sunshine illumines the room with sparkled effervescence,
writhing deep into the blue sky destinations,
azure visions of springtime promises kept
and green grass wanderings
I rise with you, fall with you…with this perfect time,
mirroring movements in reflective crescendos, rapidly,
as your voice sings my name, feathered pillow melodies,
an ending ovation in hummingbird inspired quivers
And you collapse, tethered breaths, tiny giggles
pulling the sheets tight to your chin playfully
I peer up, cinnamon eyes gleam, twinkle,
rejoicing as brand new day begins…in love
~
It is an unusually cold morning here so
I thought I would repost this and warm
the place up a little. : )