fingers follow wants and needs
how raw and wild her climax
how sweet her repose
-----
put jealousy aside
if you truly love freely
allow your love their love
-----
Her many beautiful folds
Physical and mental,
She the flower of desire,
The queen of hope and need,
Blossom glistening with
A crystal dew of
Words, desires, and love,
The passion flowing,
A wine to be poured
Into the mouth of
Her beloved,
Never quenching
His thirst for the
Love so complete and pure,
Spilling from her woman's well,
Across the lips of love.
-----
To create art for others to share and love or leave is like intercourse.
To create art only for yourself is a form of masturbation.
Both are okay and have their place, but don't expect one to have the same feel and acceptance of the other.
-----
She gazed at the screen and wondered what he was doing, when his next poem would appear. Would it speak of her? He often did. It was a pity they were so far apart in place and time, and yet so close in mind and heart.
Did he ever think of her except in his poetry?
He gazed at the screen and wondered what she was doing, gathering the next words with which to speak to her... of her. Would she know it was for her, about her? It was a pity they were so far apart in place and time, and yet so close in mind and heart.
He sighed.
She sighed.
"Too old," he thought.
"So young, " she thought.
She read and smiled, clicked the heart.
He saw the heart appear, and smiled.
She sighed.
He sighed.
-----
there is something divine
in passion's earthly eden
love's lost paradise
-----
flames full of images
firery poetry leaping high
burning in my veins
Donovan Baldwin