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some poems aren't words some are sigh or moan or touch... between two lovers • Donovan Baldwin

Cheap red wine and old guitars, Ancient songs and a dance which Even older, heats the blood, Strangers around the fire Becoming brothers, sisters, Even more as the heat rises, Inhibitions fade, and love becomes The only song they sing, The only song she dances to. • Donovan Baldwin

Jealous of the cloth Soft fabric which drapes, Hides, conceals, yet, clings, Displays, daring to touch you, All of you, throughout the day, Keeping your secrets to itself, Waving coyly at me as you pass, As if to say, it can touch And I cannot, It can watch each movement, Feel the rise and fall of each breath, The glide of legs, then, At end of day, As it drops to the floor, Be lifted in your arms, Crushed to your breast, As you, dance naked To the hamper. • Donovan Baldwin

No more romantic words are ever spoken, Than the wordless sounds of lovers, Sighs, and moans, and gasps, and cries Wrenched from their deepest wells, At the epitome of their love, For words have weights which bear them down, Which lovers' climactic utterances soar free of. • Donovan Baldwin

I rise, I rise, Again I fall, And rise again, Poet by fate, Warrior by vow, I must be what I must be, Do what I must do, For only one other option remains, And that villain has not come onstage as yet. • Donovan Baldwin

These old fingers, Lined and corded, Seem to the eye Hard and cold, Unfeeling, but, They have learned How to touch, To follow curves, Find the secret spots Uncover the most Sensitive and sensual Desires as she, Whispers, quivers, Sighs and moans, Signals they learned Many years ago. • Donovan Baldwin

as if sun's own light a far flung radiation essence of true love moon reflected back so that by darkest of nights we remain aware this wondrous event illuminating lovers cast so far apart • Donovan Baldwin

evocative rose images beyond the bloom... love's lustful blossom • Donovan Baldwin

flitting page to page tone and texture of her tale... beneath her fingers • Donovan Baldwin

In some secluded cove A small boat rocks at anchor, Disturbed less by waves Than by the efforts Of lovers safe aboard, Who use the silent safety And solitude to practice The arts of love as Nature intended. • Donovan Baldwin

Nature's good for poetry... Not merely storms and wind, And warm rain and Ice cold sleet, all of which, Touch and arouse so Many thoughts and feelings, But, natural thoughts And feeling arising from Most natural inner storms Of buffeting desires, And blasts of fulfillment. • Donovan Baldwin