Mom in her apron
to the kitchen goes;
I watch her get out
ingredients that
she puts into rows.
Bubbling in me
is a child’s glee;
no meagerness
of eagerness!
The oven
door opens
and closes.
Love the
smell of
Pies!
I was there when love became you.
It spread across your eyes and smile,
left a breathless caressing hue
and whisper of softest beguile.
Aching for your gentle embrace,
yearning for the pulsing heartbeat
that your touch fetches with its trace
skimming my skin in burning heat.
I succumb to your calm shadow
arching with fresh unbound pleasure.
Growing fury of ebb and flow,
recurring sensual treasure.
You raise my heated eagerness
with sweet, sultry, seductive eyes.
My breath, catching in meagerness,
ceding in dramatic surprise.
I arise with feverish flush
designing a rhythmic motion
to entice, encourage first gush
in raw unrestrained emotion.
Ah, my love, will you stay with me
forever and further behoove?
We shall grow in greater degree,
you and I, without vain reprove.
My love, my skillful seducer.
In life, I dedicate my all.
You have become my producer.
In death, I'll hear your lustful call.
Your salacious murmurs teasing
torrid desire in me anew.
Your voice passionately pleasing.
I was there when love became you.
Inadequacy defines me.
Money is not my only lack,
Pinching, as pride slips through the cracks,
Overdrafting maintenance fees.
Vacancies have never been free.
Emptiness makes my sad soul slack,
Reduced beyond what you can stack,
Insufficiently, just to be.
Shortages abound all around.
Hardships are collected instead.
Meagerness charged my flesh a pound,
Exhausting my efforts in bed.
Necessity will make a sound,
Torturing my spirit, when dead.
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