You've meant so deeply much; within my desire
If I could present a world or build an empire
It would be so easy to secretly conspire
In a way that you would not find hard to admire
Happiness for me; sought just nurturing your purist fire
You see my genuine intentions; carrying us higher
We are beyond me; so far past what I wantingly require
Viewing you satisfied; fuels me to wondrously aspire
A devotion of which I will sleeplessly never overtire
My differing notion; I'm just resolved; to her eternal pyre
Oh, to have the hugs and closeness of a companion,
To hear laughter of happiness,
To see youthful smiles on tender lips,
To scent a fragrance worn,
To feel the warmth of entwined fingers holding hands,
Walking hand in hand in sunshine, rain showers,
In enjoyment, wanting to be together,
To be close to each other.
Oh, to park on a beach of an ocean watching a setting sun
Bring on evening hues, darkness and night time lights,
To play board games helping pass long hours of an even longer evening,
To kiss wantingly, tenderly and know that a beautiful
Vale is just over the hill to be explored.
Oh, for the closeness of a companion.
W.C.Hull © 25-08-1995-E
The dream-
The one-
You would never-
Wantingly leave-
All you can do-
Is hope-
Closing your eyes-
And it find again.
M. Lyn Church
June 18, 2013
The mind's eye plays tricks on desire.
There, I feel your body pressed
hard against mine,
Each breath in unison is something divine.
The thick-hot passion of our
two forms entwined
Drips from our naked mass.
There your lips secrete
such sweet sugar.
A leg wraps wantingly
around my torso
As my finger tips dig passionate
Into your warm, gentle sides.
Alas, the mind's eye is only a looking glass.
I am here alone again,
Cold with the dank morning dew.
And you, you are the sleeping angel
That keeps the bed warm
With these same euphoric burning blessings
That the mind's eye can only dream of.
Lying atop her stomach bare and she gazed, wantingly upon
Love's beautiful ladies; playful, November's Penthouse pages
Her scent enchanting their senses; in pleasures they stared...
Slowly caressing herself; her breast her thighs; of ivory white.
....Saying one thing that I do is this, I never look back, rather
Keeping my eyes upon the prize in the high calling of God, I reach ahead ~
As I also do, although, never are these shadows of my once upon a times
Saturated within sinfuls life, do they escape the consciousness of truth
Inside; always brushing their wings these confirmations; thorns remain....
Reminding myself of how imperfect this body and mind and I, so truly am!?
Not that I should wantingly or willingly return unto this, its mires
Nor reaffix the fetters in marking its sorrows unto countless regrets for
While in doing this then, I shall have given the enemy their desire; desires....
Rendering void the cross of Christ Jesus and His precious lifes, priceless blood ~
Yet if we fight and I do so fight, with and within, these absolute truths?!
This perpetual war; but not with flesh and blood as I have also seen
Principalities and rulers of lost amid darker realms and, must I deny ~
Salvation; formed in The Word this armour, for a sinner such as myself....
***************************************************************
....“Standing, At The Gates of Beautiful” *
I saw you standing in the moonlight...
your eyes filled with hunger,
your touch - soft and tender,
your mind racing with thought.
A life of passion released
from its hidden depths,
released from its reserved shell.
Our bodies become interwoven
in a symphony of want,
a symphony of need...
the symphony of desire.
Your sweet sounds fill the warm air,
I marvel at your beautiful arrangements,
I lust for your tender harmonies;
I desire each of your exquisite movements,
I long for your eloquent instruments.
All through the night the music rises and falls
with precision and perfection,
then our symphony reaches a fever pitch;
I sense the finale is coming -
I can feel it from within.
You stare wantingly into my eyes
as the last few notes are played.
The music then silences - the curtain gently falls.
Our symphony ends much like it began -
beautiful you...in the moonlight.
For "Erotica" contest sponsored by Frank Herrera.
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