Long Fondle Poems
Long Fondle Poems. Below are the most popular long Fondle by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Fondle poems by poem length and keyword.
I mesmerize
You tantalize
Slim
Tender
Hazel
Eyes
Baby your fun size
So let me bask in you sun rise
slowly but yet roughly surf your smooth thighs,
as we greet each others soul dancing in the flame
of our eyes as we mesmerize
rub
fondle
in the play
in the lay
that our tenders stimulate and amplify
the moment
I gaze in to your appalling sunrise,
just you and me free,
he and she
no shades on my eyes,
bravely staring in
your sunrise
hitting the bank,
the shore of
your fluffy inside,
like pillow fights at night, guiding my long black stripe,
into you wet dark night, we take flight as ecstasy ignites
in between your slim tender tight, I am the man tonight she
said baby you can sleep over tonight, I say yes baby ok then we
can lay back on fluffy pillows and watch a boxing fight,
SHE SAYS HMM BOXING FIGHT DAMN BABY YOU KNOW I DON'T LIKE THAT RIGHT!!!
She asks whats the cab number again. LOL why is every thing alright?
What its just a boxing fight!!!
A LETTER TO MY BELOVED
While I am writing this letter to You, my one and only,
the mute wind,
utterly silent and stealthy,
has opened the doors of the old church,
and carried away the prayers
along the white heavenly fields.
The mute wind never opens my door,
because he knows that my prayers ran dry
long since, just like my tears.
While the eternally faithful solitude
carries my passions
across the face of the bloody horizon,
my memories are slowly dying
on the bonfire of the demonic fire of oblivion.
My one and only, I am not afraid of my own death,
I am afraid of the death of our memories.
You remember, my one and only,
the cheerful song of the golden bird
on the red rose’s petal,
when You used to bestow me with kisses,
moist and reverberant,
warm and dreamy.
My pen is trembling in my hand,
just like that red rose,
where Your gentle gaze is no longer present.
You know, my one and only,
one of the rose’s petals shivers in the wind
more than all the others.
It is the same petal
you used to fondle
at the break of day.
Its face is perfectly human
yearning and lonely
like mine.
Up there, the golden bird is singing,
while down here solitude is following my steps.
Why won’t it be killed?
Because its grave
lies down there along with many souls,
because human laws do not apply to it.
And when the mute wind
started wistfully humming
in the tired night’s embrace,
I continued wandering the world
with the inexplicable hope
that I might, perchance,
walk into You.
Days, months and years
were carried away by the capricious wind of destiny,
and You still remained but a memory.
There is no pain in my defunct heart,
everything is so distant and meaningless without You,
and You are so far,
and me,
I never took part in anything again.
And when that golden bird,
amidst its cheerful song,
would casually look into my eyes,
I would be stricken with indescribable memories.
And while the April sky
rose above its
quivering golden head,
I knew that its song
travels towards a borderline,
invisible world,
just like all our memories do.
Do not worry, my one and only,
the day will come,
our day,
when the golden bird shall sing
for us only,
and when that rose petal shall once again
tremble in Your hand,
just like my hand shall tremble
in Your hand.
©Walter William Safar
Sitting in the meadow green grass shimmering in the Sunlight
Jade green eyes Sparkle in a mist of long lost TEARS
A cat picks it owner SHE sees LOVE: SHE LOVES HIS HEART
Contrasting stripes of POLISHED JADE Shining in the Sunlight
Dew drops on Meadow grass Sliding down like Tears
Rolling Through the Clover Purring LOVE from HER Pure HEART
FOREVER ALWAYS Entwined in ETERNITY
“NOOoo, NOOoo, Unfair YOU said THREE Lines no Longer
My next stanza is four lines long THEN “WE” go back to THREE”
“ OK, OK I’m sorry but I do LOVE YOU FOREVER AND ALWAYS “
“ I K N O W and I LOVE YOU FOR ALL ETERNITY “
The Green TIGRESS seductively LURES HER MATE to Fondle
To Caress and Probe MY inner SOUL Discover the Estacy of LOVE
A Contented PURRrr, a Contented groan of arousal from HER LOVE
“ Nubbies “ for HER LOVE,” Nubbies “ from HER EVERLASTING LOVE
“ My DEAREST and Only MOST BELOVED LENORE, No [ “Nubbies” ]
Our POEMS are of a HEAVENLY LOVE : not the lust of Mankind
Our EVERLASTING DAY is still three long months Away”
“ I said EVERLASTING LOVE not EVERLASTING D A Y "
Now finish the POEM in YOUR LOVING and HEARTFELT WAY
IN JUST THREE {3} LINES”
If YOUR in the jungle YOU hear the ROAR of the Mighty White Siberian
Fear for YOUR Life , when YOU listen to the Sirenic PURR of a Green Tigress
Hug and Embrace HER for all of YOUR Tomorrows She ; YOUR EVERLASTING
W IFE
Dedicated in LOVING Memory to the Co-Author Of this POEM
My DEAREST and Only MOST BELOVED LENORE ELLEN ADAMS [ L E A ]
( after Achebe's remembrance)
We opened our book of remembrance with a
Blissful kola nut from Ogidi,then poured libation
On that same ground that once held our eyes of unity.
Your photograph is that which hung on the wall
of my heart parted by walls of your wisdom and thoughts.
You saw how the moon peeped through the leaves
Uniting our shadows as you loosened your buttons
Showing me the path between two mountains;
Smooth sand of precious stones sparkled on your softness..
You're a gem in the heart of poetry figures of now.
Okigbo was but a zealous fellow of your domain.
Sorrow will be the Joy of tomorrow when Okonkwo
shall return to enquire of those who called him weak.
what makes up the poignancy of your stars?,
what make the radiant cloud relish clement despite
the inclement rain that once betrayed you ?
The most beautiful colour which paint an imminent
memory in my heart are found in the palette of moment
By the imageries in things fall apart and am eased.
if before you get to the soothing roost of opulence,
We'll remember you as a man of the people,
you did never sail through the thickness of reverberated gloom,
We'll not allow the children to fondle sky with fear like
Ikemefuna did through dogged consistency and tugged persistency .
the sweatness of tomorrow shall becomes the sweetness
of today, and the sun and the star shall supply from your thoughts.
When shadow of discouragement overshadow our reflection,
We'll search through the mirror of courage in 'there was a country
and see the encouragement in the image of your vision.
I have counted the stars for Ezeulu without a mistake,
Obi Okonkwo wIll be here with a clattering breeze to flutters his
irrevocable bluster. We will journey East again but this time
With a drum of hands and whistle of mouths to tear down
Awka with a vocable melody of caress, and remind them of
the photograph of your deeds still dangling in our eyes.
Yours Poetically,
©John Chizoba Vincent
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
On Reading Bertrand Russell --
A History of Western Philosophy
copyright date 1945
Trenchant treatise purchased
August 25th, 2020
at Limerick Chapel Book Sale
(in Church gym)
offered old library books
cost 25 cents apiece.
Musty tome
seventy five years out of print
found welcome home
nevertheless mine brown
myopic eyes eagerly roam
affixing knowledge
within fifty plus shades
double fisted size
gray matter with cerebral dome.
Aging long haired pencil necked geek
said storied author I effusively bespeak,
his whose pedantic trademark style
revered analogous to beholding
resplendent riches property
of selfless sheikh.
Impossible mission to describe
intoxicating sensation when
yours truly doth imbibe
superfluous words cannot oversubscribe
most august emotional vibe.
Though agog where euphoria doth alight
each word, sentence, paragraph...
metaphorical tasty bite
read outloud with deliberate delight
(tis akin to kid in candy store)
senses luxuriate across
elapsed millenniums excite
genuine fanciful flight
comfortably numbskull buzzfeeding
until time for goodnight
becoming learned about height
civilizations flourished
food for thought insight
bedazzling mental receptors
as if fingers fondle jadeite
perhaps carved as
chess piece (think) knight
phosphorescence generating light
emanating courtesy enthusiasm
powered thru awesome might
thru simple pleasure reading
me oblivious to approach of night
ever since boyhood reveled within world
printed pages poured splendor
(worth more than fine spun gold) outright
dependable catharsis to ameliorate
most any psychological plight
strong medicine agreeable with
garden variety generic bookworm quite
now if ye will please pardon me
aye venture to experience
remote contra dancing right
fully ceased going since coronavirus (COVID-19),
if curious just access
https://www.thursdaycontra.com/
virtualDance.html website.
I uttered an authoritative groan as he let
go of my hand
This was it
Never ever was I again going to stroke his
cheeks or fondle any other art in his
glittery body
I wanted to run away as memories
spanked my mind
The pain was lethal furious,eating my
every part
Showing who was mightier
This man had spices,such that had no
names or shapes
His tongue was a troublemaker, tasting
norms only God knows
Enslaving me, making me obey,
Obey to his ruins and whimps all day,
See I worshipped this kind of beauty, this
fine-textured lust
His passion was a poison I gladly and
willingly took
Pain and sorrow playing at it best
But God knew better for this embedded
love or was it a fore-play and the rare bit
is here nah?
But I played in the pain thrill embracing
the warmth, the beauty of this drama
As he nicknamed me names but best was
BAby Ema
So I rode in this wilderness bowing at his
feet
Swimming in romance, teasing my king
It was fun, I was alive and it became clear
With this kind of heat is why men exists
To carve and scatter my intestines, his
every pinch was like nourishing in the
feets of heaven and dancing in the skies
of Mercury
But now I was here hot and steamy, my
nipples were dancing and whinning to the
sun rays
And the hiss of my steam was ramping to
a singing voice
And all I could do was to watch him
disappear
I was dying to throw away my multi-
billion stained dignity
Cause his body turned out to be the most
expensive at that moment for me
I was ready to marry the golden outfits of
sin and be a love freak
I was feeling buds of bliss and banners of
missing booing my knees
Questioning me, asking me to rip my
jeans insanely for a quickie
So I closed the easiest thing, but opening
and closing my eyes was the deadliest
thing,
He was gone in a sec
I watched myself melt away in the juicy
desire of wanting him
But it was over
He had said it yesterday, our last night
together
That was the last of our best.......
HALLUCINATION
In the moonlit salty water I saw your face placidly suave
Can I kiss the beautiful face drawing the water in my hands?
Breeze caressed the transparency blurring into small waves
Oh! It dissolved to colourless drops vaporizing to elements
Sometimes, in the dusk, you dance with clouds
Yonder amongst the rainbow and evening stars glitter
Just begins to cast my eyes, enticing, the clouds enshrouds
Had I wings to soar high and around you flutter!
And amongst the woods before winter fall with smile sheen
Yellow leaves hide ‘cause sunbeams burn butter skin to pall
Embarrassing me to seek and embrace you with heart keen
Oh! Leaving only mounts of snow, yellow leaves rhythmically fall
Tender hands fondle; I feel the lavender petals fall
In your chat with me your passions gush
And just be in union with a kiss I feel a haul
Feeble hard I struggle to hug and away you rush!?
In lonely night I hear your melodious song
Have a glance on the singer! Eagerly I roam
Only foggy hills and murmuring of leaves I see all night long
Still yonder the other sides of the river the melody hum
You are a non-existing existence
Sun and moon are meaningless sans you
Sans you my existence is non-existence
No dawn and dusk sans you
ASOKUMAR.K.A
Let me……….Let me … Let me in….. Let me in,
I want you, I miss you…… Mum!
Let me... Let me... Let me... Mum Lead me!
As something inside me is burning,
Let me be, let me! Be me,
Face of Stella get in and be with me!
I want you tell me everything is gona be okay,
Now let me write the spectrum between death and life of my mother,
I’m clement about my mum even when deceased and vanished.
I always heed to her spirits even when I know it’s a myth.
Mum without you, no me, no words, I would have transcribed,
Nothing is synonymous to you, mother
Because the love I feel for you is eternal.
I’m one lucky guy, my mum is in heaven, I, am still in haven.
There’re flashes I remember,
I remember talking to my mum when I’m a sleep,
And then, when dawn ruptured, indeed I recollected everything she had told me,
She told me, “When you start from nadir, you can glimpse zenith.”
My mum holds my hand and fills the gaps in between my fingers, when no one else can,
Gad dam it, that was just a hallucination but I fondle it.
My mother played her position,
I’m playing my cards and My numbers are bingo!
I perceive and heed to her voice every nightfall,
My mum whispers to my ears saying, “Cling on to ecstasy my son.” I’m with you.
She may be gone,
But her soul is wiggling with God, mine mingles with hers!
Let me accolade my mum,
Even when evil always wheels from North to south, my aegis is my mum,
My mum is my afflatus in my acreage.
My mum left me callow,
She vanished during my juvenile stint,
But I’m pursuing and so far opened new leaflets and lucrative I am now,
The canons suggest that the dead are not dead,
They just switched to the phantom zone,
So her soul is mythical in my presence,
But In the back of my mind, my mum is animate.
Face of Stella is me.
Mother, these are my words to you.
In loving memory of my Queen Mother #Stella
©Bryan De poet
©Tsi
Placed 8th in :
A Brian Strand Premiere no. 1217
Poerty Contest
A Little Child of the Night (Revisited 21 June 2023)
A
little
child,
joyful and
smiling above
in the nightly sky, Keen to please the beholder`s eyes
and beckoning her to tenderly take him In her
arms and fondle with him, Shower pure
motherly love and lull him to rest
Close by her maternal breast
until the radiant light of the
coming day Will without
woe veil his lesser light
away. When * night will
stealthily creep in,
up high he will
smile anew.
* * * *
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