En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Beautiful Muse

She is draped over a chair,
Artfully fashioned
Like a fine piece
Of silk.
He imagines that her softness
Would sweetly mould into
His hands
Like ripe fruit.
She stays still and silent,
Letting him consume her
With his hungry eyes.
He drinks her in,
The fullness of her breast,
The gentle curve of her hip
And the honeyed tones of her
Naked skin.
Her natural beauty
Has him mesmerised....
Lips apart,
Heart pounding,
Motionless.
He feels the heat of creation rise in him
And with power and purpose,
His eyes break contact as
He touches
His brush
To the canvas.

© 2012

poem by Ruby Honeytip
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Numberless Dreams

Wonderful beauty
The curve of her neck
The fullness of her lips
The way her eyes cast
fervent glances
Her hair freshly disheveled
Her furtive smile
The curve from her waist
down to her hips
The fullness of her breasts
The way her legs flash when they move
Her skin flushed. Her body fervid

Reverent hands
Every time he touched her
was like the first time
His hands trembled,
yet moved with purpose
over her body;
gently pushin', pullin'
Her response urgent, ardent

Numberless dreams
Once I lived my dreams
Now I dream my life
I dream of you muse
Each night I hope
you will fill my sleep
with numberless dreams
of your wonderful beauty
and my reverent hands
tremblin' as they touch you

poem by MacGregor Tagliaferro
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Pounding

pounding, pounding nails,
pounding heartbeats, pounding feet.
pounding voices, pounding anger,
pounding need, pounding greed.

hungry, hungry eyes,
hungry souls, hungry holes.
hungry children, hungry countries,
hungry hands, hungry man.

throbbing, throbbing blood,
throbbing dreams, throbbing schemes.
throbbing ideas, throbbing hatred,
throbbing inside, throbbing cant hide.

touching, touching hearts,
touching true, touching you.
touching forbidden, touching daring,
touching color, touching wonder.

pounding, pounding nails...

poem by Eric Cockrell
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Symphony Of Colours

I am a painter,
My hands hold a brush,
Moving as my heart wants,
Laughing the joy and crying the sorrow of my life.

I am playing with warm colours,
Using shadows I am emphasizing light,
I want the mankind see the beauty,
Of the marvelous world we have around.

Colours shine on my blank canvas,
In tones of rainbow and joyful lights,
All the warmth of the living,
Is concentrated in a piece of art.

Vibrant colours are merging together,
Dancing in shadows and lights,
All the past and the present lies here,
Being a reflection of my mind.

My thoughts are filling my canvas,
The brush strokes are following my dream,
Expressing the depths of my heart,
A symphony of colours has many stories to tell.

poem by Cristina Teodor
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The Skirt

Hallo Germaine that's a fine skirt you have
A fine skirt for a queen A cruel queen
Let's feel the silk of it Silk from Japan
And trimmed with wide lace made on no machine

Your skirt's a silken bell whose double clapper
Your legs have struck the passing of my fancies
O Germaine now I ring it my breast heaving
My hands press down upon your willing haunches

Your bedroom O my bell is a fine belfry
My hands touch silk and seem to tear my ears
Those pegs are gallows on which skirts are hanging
Those hanging men are dazzling my eyes

Motionless as an owl the oil lamp watches

poem by Guillaume Apollinaire
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Dunne Studying.

Dunne watches her mistress sleep.
There is the flickering of the eyelids
As if in dream. She gets out of bed
And with soft tread walks to her
Mistress’s bed side and looks down.
She holds her breath. She takes in
Each aspect of the face and neck
And how the hair is spread upon
The pillow. She wants to lean down
And kiss the lips, put flesh to flesh.
She hovers like some hawk waiting
To fly down and take her fine prey.
She breathes out slowly. She watches
The rise and fall of her mistress’s breast.
She moves out a hand to lay it there
But does not touch. She imagines so.
Imagines also climbing into the bed
And snuggling up close and kissing
The nape of neck. Her hand lingers
Over the breasts. Her eyes greedily
Study the soft cheek. She breathes
In deep. Her heart pounds within her
Breast. So near so near. She imagines
Lying within those arms and feeling
The hands caress her back. Her mistress
Stirs and she moves away. Walks back
To her own bed to await the light of day.

poem by Terry Collett
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Kiss Thee Oh Angel

You stand there in but the moonlight,
your eyes shimmering in the night.

The curves of your lips,
so captivating, so enriched.

Your hair a fiery amber,
just flowing through the wind.

Kiss thee oh angel,
grant thee thy wish.

Kiss thee oh angel,
let me charrish your lips.

Kiss thee oh angel,
just one kiss i wish.

Your heavenly smile,
so gentle, so calm.

Your gentle heart,
pounding a melody in my ear.

Your hands of silk,
to brush to my cheek.

Kiss thee oh angel,
grant thee thy wish.

Kiss thee oh angel,
let me charrish your lips.

Kiss thee oh angel,
just one kiss i wish.

Let me hold you oh angel,
and show you my world.

Let me breathe you oh angel,
and show you love.

Let me dance with you oh angel,
and show you true magic.

Let me kiss you oh angel,
and prosper in joy.

poem by Darlene Belcher
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Pure Emotion...

When I think of you a shiver runs through my being,
Like silk dancing across my skin, raising my expectations.
Your eyes bright reveal the devlish thoughts in your mind.
My heart quickens at the thought of possessing you once more.
Heart pounding, emotions unquenched, a desperate need embraces me.
I watch as an impish smile plays upon your lips as I stare into you.
Like a newborn storm I await the crash of thunder in my soul.
I yearn the electricity that will set our emotions aflame.
My touch like the faintest whisper of angels breath upon your skin.
I place my hand around yours you feel my gentle power.
I wash away all your anxiety like a cleansing summer rain.
For we were meant for this moment in time... We are pure emotion...

Spread the love... The peace will follow...

poem by Cosmic Dreamer
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The Masterpiece

Within the passion of your kiss I feel your soft sweet lips,
I caress your skin so gently with my loving fingertips.
I hear your cries of mercy and it stirs my very soul,
Your body is soft putty, a masterpiece for me to mould.

Frantic grasping touches mixed with loving longing sounds,
Strokes of wanton desire wrapped in passion that surrounds.
Trembling with desire that flows through us feeding on our lust,
Content within our being, we embrace the one we trust.

Pressure from my hands as now I begin to play,
Tremours of desire rip right through us as we lay.
Your breath it is suspended as my tongue now travels far,
It gives such a sweet sensation and you shine now like a star.

We are lost within the moment as our bodies do compress,
An electrifying sensation, your skin pressing on my chest.
The wetness of your tongue feels the prescence of my heat,
Our bodies are on fire as the two of us do meet.

There is a desperate hunger that is fueling both our needs,
As two lovers come together both now desperate to feed.
Taking all my passion, wanting, feeling only me,
The joy it is transcended, we become what we can be.

I hear your longing whimpers, the smiling face of you I see,
Watching as you writhe below, you lock your gaze on me.
Clutching fingers tightly there's heat and passion in this room,
Your eyes can see right through me, in you I long to be comsumed.

Pounding hearts beat faster, beads of sweat begin to drop,
Lost within a moment that neither one of us can to stop.
I bite your lips as we kiss and pull upon your hair,
Our bodies move in rythm in the steamy humid air.

The moment is upon us cries of passion grip us now,
As within each thrusting motion we release not knowing how.
As we lay within each other we remember what has been,
We lay looking in each others eyes, the dream it was so keen.

Within the passion of your kiss, I felt your soft sweet lips,
I caressed your skin so gently with my loving fingertips.
I heard your cries of mercy and it stirred my very soul,
Your body was soft putty a masterpiece that I did mould...

Spread the love... The peace will follow...

poem by Cosmic Dreamer
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My Idea of beauty

Beauty is the sensation of your heart skipping a beat,
when eyes full of mischief glance at you...
Beauty is the smile which appears on your lips, when you think of the way he smiles at you...
Beauty is in the heart which touches another
Beauty is tender hands holding each other
Beauty is strong arms holding you warm
Beauty is in water, beauty is in weather,
beauty is in air, beauty is in life
Beauty is in love, beauty is in wind...
Beauty surrounds you days and nights
yet no one knows beauty's heights...

poem by Nitya Pillai
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The Lover's Chronicles (Part Four)

your hair falls in layers as if
a gown, or a veil, behind which
all mystery abides... your eyes
moan, a deep and gutteral spiritual
longing, the history of mankind
abiding there...
your lips, silent, motionless...
yet those eyes the painter's brush!
nightfall itself bows in gratitude.
beginning and end, again and again,
as if the earth breathed somewhere
deep in the softness.
i see the first fire, the shadows on
the walls of the cave. and i hear
drumbeats in the distance... feel
the howling of the wolf on the back
of my neck... and death is there, so
it must be, for there to be life. i
wait in the timeless, lost in your
glance!

poem by Eric Cockrell
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Polly strips His bed

Polly strips back the sheets
where Master George has lain.
She folds the white sheets and
lays them on a chair. She lies

her head on the pillow where
his head has been. She sniffs
and smells him. Closing her eyes
she imagines she's there beside

him and he has her in his arms,
his lips against her flushed cheek.
She imagines they are in bed
together when dawn's light breaks

through the shutters and Susie
the other maid enters and wide
eyed she mouths a huge round O.
She opens her eyes; the pillow

is vacant beside her head, just
a small indentation where he had
laid his head the night before.
She fingers into the pocket of her

white apron a few black hairs she's
discovered on the white pillowcase.
She strips off the pillowcases and
puts them with the sheets. The bed

is now stripped of all coverings
and is left to air. She imagines as
she stands that he is still there,
laid out unclothed, skin all bare.

But in reality she knows he has
gone of to war as he has before.
She hopes he will return alive
and in one piece; no missing

limps or blind or gassed as some
have been she's read; but most of all
she dreads him laid out cold and damp
in some foreign field lying still and dead.

poem by Terry Collett
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The Beauty of You

The Beauty of You

The beauty of you in everything I see
From the glowing fire in the skies
Created by you, to warm us and guide us
To the never ending horizon where ocean meets sky

Nothing escapes my eyes in the beauty I see
Silvery calm water, a reflection of peace
Gentle breeze mingling with bird song
A melody of your creation dancing in my heart

Oh God of all creation, from near and far we seek you
Oh God of all of me, from ashes into beauty my life with you
Oh God, Oh God, Oh God of all creation, the now and then
Oh God, Oh God, Oh God of all creation, in You no end

poem by Lisa Finney
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The Power of a Man

The power of a mam's eyes, how they pierce into my soul,
Which can make a love ignite, or tear apart something once whole,
The power of a mn's eyes, how they judge you with their stare's,
The pwer to degrade you, or foolishly make you believe they care,

The power of a man's lips, colliding together with mine,
Showing how much he loves me, as our tongues slowly entertwine,
The power of a man's lips, to cause me so much pain,
Curse words roll off his tongue, calling my hurtful names,

The power of a man's hands, how they caress my body and skin,
Luring me into adultery, oh, what a satifying sin,
The power of a man's hands, to painfully strike my face,
Blows go to the body, now he's fastening the pace,

The power of a man's heart, some big others small,
He who chooses to love, or not to love at all,
The power of a man's heart, from tthis his pride he gains,
The power to choose to hate me, or to love me just the same,

poem by Niakeva Thomas
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Your Naked Eyes

Naked and Vulnerable,
I lie before you
For you to behold me
With your naked eyes…

Beautiful and Ugly
I lie before you
For you to assess me
With your naked eyes…

Drenched in Love
I lie before you
For you to reciprocate
With your naked eyes…

Doused in Passion
I lie before you
For you to arouse me
With your naked eyes…

The Goddess in Me
Lying before you,
Asking
The God in you
To propitiate her
With his heavenly body
And naked eyes…

As you devour me
And savour me
In the heat and the sweat
Of our spiritual ‘coming’
I transfix my gaze
On your naked eyes…

When you smile back
In opulent ecstasy
I feel so blissful
And so peaceful
In this shameless abandonment
To your naked eyes…

poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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Musing on a thought

Would the moon be eclipsed
And the light which streams
From stars through the window
Pale to a poor comparison
Would the rain which falls
To soothe the parched dry land
Taste less sweet than imagined
Would the soft woven silk
Which clothes the naked body
Be as gentle to the skin
Or as pleasing to feel
Would the beauty of this world
Stand as testament still
When all is considered
Would a dream be a beautiful
When the eyes are closed
And all is know is what we feel
Would you gift me the answer
With a kiss from your lips

poem by Matthew Holloway
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Wear my Skin

You want to know how it feels
Being hollowed out
Apple cored, centre lost?

You want to know how it feels
Leaking salt water
Filling oceans with tears?

You want to know how it feels
To hear your heart break
And catch the pieces in your hand?

You want to know how it feels
To have your soul rent;
Half in a grave, half out?

You want to know how it feels
To lose your gentle lover;
Your own sweet man?

You want to know how it feels
When your grief is not valid
In the eyes of the world?

You want to know how it feels?
You have to wear my skin;
But I doubt it would fit.

P H Brookes © 1997

poem by Paul Brookes
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Lingering Kisses

A lingering kiss remains on my lips
I can feel your warm skin below
Entangled in our passion

Pure
Raw
Undeniable

Sparkling eyes stare off into the the distance
Hands tremble, voices break
the soft Moonlight kisses every curve of your body

Groping hands explore every part of an unknown world
Taboo
A fire ablaze in our kiss

A mad passion
eyes open and the hunger quells
Breathe in

Breathe out
A lingering kiss remains on my lips

poem by Katherine H. Belle
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She walks in beauty

She walks in beauty, eyes soft,

Innocent; silky breast that captures

men’s heart, her alarming whiteness,

making angels turn dark.

In times of sorrow, she's the light; if she

cries, her tears breakdown into drops of

divine moist. Wrapped in her skin, never

has a sin, her lips turn to fear in

the eyes of evil. Her sacred presence makes earth

heavenly; her beauty blinds the power of vision,

her virtuous is an envious, making instinct

jealousy take over. She walks in beauty.

poem by Elenushka Toledo
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All Alone.

All alone except for
The dame sitting across
The way drinking coffee
Her lips ready to sip her
Hands holding the cup
Her finger looped through
The handle and she closes
Her eyes as she sips and
You notice how the lips part
And how the raised cup touches
The softness of her and you
Watch and imagine the lips are
Touching yours and she is
Emptying you of all your juices
And swallowing you up and
Draining you away just like the
Contents of the cappuccino cup.

poem by Terry Collett
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Let Me Into Your Wonderland

The way in my cup you move,
Things in my heart you remove,
The way in my bed you grovel,
That aches in my heart might hovel,
The way you catch the light in my eyes,
The way you shimmer in the face of the sky,
The way you apprehend the strolling air,
The way you craft out from fragments of hemisphere,
To the bleakness of the night wearing a splendor,
That strikes a sky so dusk yet at backdoor.
Let's in our secret place congregate,
Let our hearts bear witness&conjugate,
To this nightly sweetness.
Let our lips understand the language of one-another,
Let my chest into your skin's silkiness,
And the softness of your breast well,
By your order,
Let me to your ears say, calm, mute and worldly things.
That your soul may to another time rise to the adulation of my twitchy lips..

poem by Folayemi Akande
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