Search Results

Of love stories, Adventures of the heart, Shown and shared, Throughout ages, A thousand Helens, Hercules' twelve labors, Tales whose truth May be doubted, But not put aside, For their thrilling And exciting effect, Upon poets who As I speak of love And more... Our love story. • Donovan Baldwin

The poet strings words, His private glittering jewels, But owns them not, Crafts his final piece A thing of beauty. I poet, may give my love, A jewel, a gem, a rose, Not mine, Joined by my hand My heart, To necklace, bouquet, Loving poem, The gift becomes mine, A paean of my love, For my gifted lover.

It echoes in my mind, Reverberating in my heart, From out of old memories, A haunting refrain, Violins and guitars, Quiet voices singing In night's dark arena, Lit by a fire redolent Of pine and amour, Eyes searching for the one Whose love has woven This net of floating embers. • Donovan Baldwin

Mid swirling mystic mists of morning, In secret hours the living, And dead to the world, Never visit, Wanders a blinded poet with open heart, Seeking the source of sounds, Images and ideas most cryptic, Hoping to unravel love's skein, To follow its threads to his love. • Donovan Baldwin

I gaze at you in my dreams, And, as if I can see the words, They spill forth, revealing my heart, Its hopes and desires, wishes and dreams, Creating an image within me of my feelings, The love, the craving for you held and holding. • Donovan Baldwin

Be who you are, my love. For, who you are, Is she I knew I loved From first meeting. It was that genuine, Open fiery passion Held behind soft, Sweet ways and words, Which set my soul on fire, Filled me with such desire For the honeyed elixir which Flows so freely with your love. • Donovan Baldwin

From my battlement overlooking The rooftops of the world Darker gray in gray of night, I see one window lighted, Illuminated with a shaft of moonlight, In whose silver circle, reclines my love, Holding what I hold so dear, Touching gently with love As I would were I at her side. • Donovan Baldwin

If I were rain, I would bathe you, Many rivulets of love, Tickling, teasing all over. If I were sun, I would warm you, Wrap you in lover's embrace, As you reach hands out in pleasure. If I were moon, I would paint you, Naked with silver lines, Valleys and hills and peaks aglow. • Donovan Baldwin

In my obvious pleasure, Eager lips exploring Hidden pleasure passageways Tracing paths to our arousal, Desire driving us together, You, open to my intrusions, Me, rewarded by tang and spice, Beyond flavor or taste, Salty salaciousness of the moment, Openly sharing body and soul. • Donovan Baldwin

it tickles you say oh, then should i stop i ask no, please don't, you say Poetry, that is... or, whatever... • Donovan Baldwin

Yes, I write poetry, But, I can fix a toilet Wire in a ceiling fan, Switches and outlets, Set plugs and points, Do a good brake job, Field strip an M16, And my two Smith & Wessons. A fair carpenter, And a decent cook. Renaissance man, Capable of Making you feel loved. • Donovan Baldwin

Beneath the gentle facade, The ladylike demeanor, Beats the fiery heart Of a wild dancer, Woman of moonlight And mad music, Passionate lovemaking, Languid romance after, Spent in placid and tender Touches and kisses, Which still belie The heat that burns within The smiling lover. • Donovan Baldwin