I've been a writer for a long time, no published works but I've talked with publishers, and they say that most of my poetry is good. So, given the availability of blogs, allow me the indulgence, let me guide my pen for your enjoyment.
Lost in pools, prismatic and twinkling in the dim light.
O, my virtue, set a flutter at such a sight.
Misted in a veil, so translucent, yet alive.
A veil that speaks volumes, setting mine aside.
To yield or tilt, my mind does contend.
Yield, and lose again to other hands.
Tilt, and risk it all, to gain or to be lost.
Yet fate speaks, and the wind blows,
Ushering me to uncharted seas.
Be still, my befeathered heart.
For enthrallment has given it wings.
Dare I ask, the secrets of her heart?
Or do I resign, and sing still my lonely song.
Raptured in passion, yet tranquil in my virtuous needs.
I seek what every man has sought, and failed to achieve.
Silently, I speak, purring forth age old words.
"So, what did you say you drink?"
Rapture, you named this woman.
Named her to reveal such secrets.
Secrets found wrapped in linens and silks.
O, Rapture, truely bless'd are we.
Fierce with passion, yet tender the same.
Gentle are the strokes and flows, kisses and whispers.
Yet hidden and empowered by greater need.
The need to fold myself into this one.
O, how she resists, yet tugs back with every draw.
Resisting intrusion, yet only to trap me within.
To push and to pull, to fight and submit.
The tide acts between this woman's legs.
What was once a metaphor, now reality.
As we both herald our little deaths.
And yet for all screams, whispers and moans.
The eulogy is naught but heavy breathing.
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