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Struck down And lifted up By an arrow from the bow of Cupid, A nom de plume, A pseudonym for love, I writhe in blissful agony, Torn and tortured by desires, Wants and pains and needs Eased with but one antidote... You. • Donovan Baldwin

I touch you so gently, Less than caress, Hand gliding over your body, Exploring, taking note Of each curve, Each hill, Each hollow, Each rise and rock, Of your terrain, Following through lush lands Into quiet grotto, Where streams and flows Love's sweet elixir, And there I rest. • Donovan Baldwin

The lady of my dreams, Wants exciting, erotic things, Woman no one really knows, They've just seen her folding clothes, Or over stove a-hover, Not knowing she's a lover, Skilled in the finest sexual art, In dreams behind her shopping cart. • Donovan Baldwin

Darkness. Embers in the wind, Songs set loose in ancient times, Riding upon a zephyr, Freed from heart and lips Fired faces aglow, With gold of flame, Passion of the song, Which she makes into dance, Singing with her body, Tales of olden ardor of, Lovers who never ceased To love. • Donovan Baldwin

Darkness. Embers in the wind, Songs set loose in ancient times, Riding upon a zephyr, Freed from heart and lips Fired faces aglow, With gold of flame, Passion of the song, Which she makes into dance, Singing with her body, Tales of olden ardor of, Lovers who never ceased To love. • Donovan Baldwin

something in secret alone with his poetry her sweet surrender • Donovan Baldwin

defies society proudly disobedient chooses her own path • Donovan Baldwin

That's how my mother used to say "what the hell" in front of my sister and me when we were little, and my father was still alive. After that, she got a bit more creative... and somehow broadened her vocabulary. But, that's another story to be told another time. So, this morning, I saw the meme I've added to this tale, and it kicked off some old memories, and a question. Here's what happened... I once saw a cargo trailer repaired with SEVERAL rolls of duct (not duck) tape... what we used to call in the army "90 mile an hour tape". It was just a temporary fix so the load could be delivered on time without the expense and delay of offloading onto another trailer. However, it WAS a tour de force on the part of the trailer tech, above and beyond, worth a medal with mudflap clusters. Many rolls of duct tape gave up their lives to accomplish the mission. The result was a work of art in its own way, and the spectators (yeah, a bunch of us stood watching the master's performance) actually applauded when the final strip was applied. There was a sadness too, that it was over. We had been in the presence of greatness. I love art... especially the great masters, da Vinci, Van Gogh, Edvard Munch, Paul Gauguin, Rembrandt, definitely Michelangelo, Camille Claudel - Auguste Rodin’s muse and mistress - and Rodin himself, the many unknown scuptors of ancient Greek art.. the list is endless as, with the passing of time, I discover new "masters", male and female. However, I have seen "art" produced in bedrooms (mind out of the gutter please), small kiosks, on street corners, and even displayed in the everchanging exhibitions of nature. Art has been static, dynamic, oral, aural, and, often, an eyeful (we're talking nudes, here). Art is all around us and sometimes can be found in the simplest act, and sometimes is only appreciated by an audience of one... the artist. Still, art exists, and it IS art, the ability to create, and to appreciate, that most defines us as human in my mind. Additionally, however, art, to me, is in, or can be found in, created in the mind of the observer, in almost every action or interaction, preparation or presentation, and, sometimes, it seems to me that one function of polititicans trying to please constituents, is to curtail one person's concept of art, of nature, of beauty, by "protecting" those who cannot, will not, or want not to see what is natural to the human. Just me, thinking out loud, in public, in a form of art. • Donovan Baldwin

On a night when you sleep, After we have made love, I love to watch you, For that sight, The sated lady, At her completed moment, Lapsing into angelic sleep, Is such a beautiful vision, A sight to be treasured, Remembered with pleasure, At quiet and peaceful times. • Donovan Baldwin

Nothing's more fun Than sharing. Sunrise or sunsent, Park or pathway, Poetry read or written, To share it with... That special one who Makes anything shared So much better, Even if all they do Is sit nearby, Glancing up and smiling Once in a while in Pleasure and joy, At your pleasure and joy, Sharing. • Donovan Baldwin

Resting upon rocks of remembrance, Seated upon a shore of somewhere, I reconsider rational reality, Contemplating completeness, Achieving eventual actuality, Fantastic future fulfillment, Exciting existence entirely Raised on the reciprocity Of a newly blossoming Bouquet of love. • Donovan Baldwin

Perhaps as ocean wind blows by, You'll hear the loving words that I, Cast on a breeze as it blew here, Words meant for my love so dear. In dream as foolish poets might, It would cross the world by day and night, Find you in lands so far away, Share loving words I once did say. • Donovan Baldwin