His Touch
She leaned against the brick wall,
Letting him feel her body.
His hands rested gently on her waist,
He looked into her hazel eyes.
She looked back into his brown eyes,
Threw her arms around his neck.
He pulled her towards his body.
She stopped breathing
everything around her had frozen.
He leaned forward to kiss her,
Fireworks burst everywhere,
She was floating on a cloud.
He walked her to her door,
Kissed her hand gently goodbye,
And left.
From her life,
Only leaving his touch with her.
poem by Scarlet Outlaw
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
What Matilda Said
Matilda closed the door. Matilda
Saw Millie by the window. Her maid’s
Uniform looked tight at the rear. She
Wanted to place her arms around her
Waist, kiss her neck. Millie turned and
Said, He’s out there with Mrs Dimmable.
Matilda walked to the window and stared.
She sensed Millie beside her; heard her
Breathing, the brush of her sleeve against
Her arm. Looks happy enough, Matilda said
Of Mrs. Dimmable. You didn’t sleep too well
Last night, Millie said, turning, going to the
Bed. She pulled back the covers, smoothed
Out the sheet. Matilda went around the other
Side of the bed and looked at Millie. You were
Tossing and turning, Millie said looking up.
Matilda helped make the bed and said, Sorry
About that. Millie stared at Matilda and said
You murmured words. Did I? Matilda replied.
Yes, Millie said, looking at her hands. What did
I say? Matilda asked. You muttered my name.
Millie stood back from the bed, gazed at Matilda.
You said things. What things? Said you loved me.
Millie blushed at the words. Matilda patted the
Pillow but said nothing. She brushed her hands
Over the covers, pushed away creases. She paused.
Looked at the window. Smelt the flowers in a vase.
Do you? Millie asked. Love me? Matilda stared
Out at Mrs Dimmable and the new gardener.
Her lips wanted to move but nothing came.
Her eyes watered. The world was awash. Millie
Walked to the window, put her arms around Matilda’s
Waist, her fingers formed a knot on Matilda’s stomach.
Matilda placed her hands over Millie’s.
They do look in love and contented don’t they?
Millie said over Matilda’s shoulder. Matilda’s sensed
The warm breath. Yes, she said, they do. Do you?
Millie’s breath uttered softly into her ear, yes.
poem by Terry Collett
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Helen and You and the Bombed Out Factory
Ought we to go in there?
Helen asked
as you both stood outside
the bombed out factory
off Rockingham Street
sure we should
you said
but it's got
STAY OUT signs
on the big doors
she said
you looked at her
with her thick lens glasses
and her hair tied in plaits
nibbling her finger in anxiety
come on in
you said
nothing will happen to you
while you're with me
she didn't look convinced
what if someone sees us?
she asked
no one cares around here
kids are always going
on bombsites
you said
she looked around
her eyes seemingly larger
than they were
are you sure?
she said
yes now come on
and you took
her small hand
and pulled her through
a small opening
in the side
where other kids
had made an entrance
she a pulled face
on the other side
of the gate
and rubbed her arm
where a line of blood showed
look
she said
I've scratched myself
you dabbed at it
with a grey handkerchief
and spittle and she watched
as you cleared up
the line of blood
will it be all right?
yes
you said
it'll be fine
and you walked on
across the yard
and into the bombed out factory by
a door hanging
on its hinges
and into the dark interior
she stood by the entrance inside
and took in the semi darkness
it's frightening
she said
no one is here
you said
how do you know?
she asked
it's too quiet
you said
she leaned closer to you
and grabbed your arm
what was that?
she whispered
a rat probably
what? she said
a rat
you said
let's go out
she said
nothing will hurt you
while I'm here
and you patted
the toy gun
in the belt
of your jeans
she looked at you
then out
into the semi darkness
you walked in
and up the stone stairs
by a wall
and she followed
her breathing
becoming louder
as you walked up
once at the top
and along a landing
you came to a small office
where the door was missing
and there was a hole
in the roof where a bomb
had blown it off
as well as other parts
of the building
you stood
looking around
the room
where rain had rotted
what furniture remained
and on the floor
were books soaked
and rotting
Helen said
can we go now?
you looked up
through the hole
in the roof
and there
was the afternoon sun
and a white cloud
moving slowly across
a blue sky
and she moved
next to you
and kissed your cheek
but you didn't know why.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Our First Time
We were young kids just learning about life.
But we found we had deep rooted feelings for one another
As we met to get together for the very first time
we gave each other a pecked kiss (our first)
We pulled each other close, and our hands held each others arms.
As we looked into each others eyes, there was a passion
Beginning to rise.
Our mouths joined together and we started experimenting
Our very first French kiss.
We felt our blood boiling to a high crescendo, and then
Crashing down like the waves against the shores.
Our mouths searching hungrily for more.
The kiss lasting for a few minutes, and the passion
And excitement taking control.
Finally I pulled away from her warm, soft, sensuous lips
And we stared into each others eyes again.
She slowly took her hands from my arms and started
To unbutton my shirt while looking me in the eyes.
My heart was pounding even faster now, as she took
Off my shirt, dropping it to the ground.
I in turn did the same thing to her blouse, removing it from her body.
She then removed my t- shirt leaving me bare chested.
I took off her bra, and we pulled each other closer
Where our chests were touching, and the heat and passion
Made us become as one.
I then unbuttoned her slacks, and let them dropp to her ankles
And started to remove them slowly.
She in turn did the same to me.
We looked at each other in our under wears and pulled
Each other close again.
Feelings and emotions that we never experienced before
Started to fill every part of our beings.
The blood pulsating thru our veins felt as if it was on fire.
Our hand caressing each other, exploring ever so gently.
Our lips joined together again in a kiss of passion and delight.
It was becoming harder to control our desires, and
The need for fulfillment.
I put my thumbs on the sides of her under wear and slowly lowered them to her feet, and removed them.
She did the same to me, slowly removing mine and taking them off.
Again! We embraced as our bodies became as one, moving
In unison in a slow moving rhythm.
Our loins on fire, burning with desire.
I lowered her to the ground as I continued looking into her eyes
And then I positioned myself above her in anticipation
Of entering her body and soul.
My blood to a boiling point, and my head feeling like
It was about to burst. I felt my legs and arms trembling
As I started to lower myself down and as I *****I *****
I woke up from this dream. A DREAM!
Ha-ha -life can be bad.
poem by Louis Rams
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Gently
(words & music by wizell - lisbona)
Gently your eyes met mine
Tender, trusting, true
Gently your hand took mine
Thrilled me through and through
Gently, oh so gently
Gentle as the dawn
Gently, oh so gently
Our true love was born
Gently your lips kissed mine
As we strolled along
Gently your heart touched mine
Young and warm and strong
Gently the hour is near
When true loves have to part
Gently well meet again
One more kiss, sweetheart
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Others May Think.
Apart from the water tower
and the farm
and a few scattered cottages
there were no other buildings
for a mile or more
just you and Jane
and birds in the early morning sky
I like it at this time of day
she said
I like the fresh smell of nature
and the farm
and having few people about
you walked beside her down the lane
that led away from the farm
you noticed how her black hair
seemed freshly washed
and blew slightly in the mild wind
does you father mind
you being out with me?
you asked softly
he doesn't know
she replied
he thinks I came out alone
for a morning walk
why didn't you tell him?
you asked
he was busy writing his Sunday sermon
and it was easier to just go out
and not disturb him
she said looking around at you
her eyes studying you
as she walked on down the lane
would he mind you being with me?
you asked
I don't think he knows you as yet
seeing as you have only moved here
a few months and don't come
to the church
you stopped and took her hand in yours
it was warm and soft
and pulsed with life
she looked at your hand
holding hers and she rubbed
her thumb over the back
of your hand
you wanted to kiss her lips
or cheek just to feel
her flesh on yours
but you didn't you just looked at her
and waited to see
what she would do next
she let go of your hand
and looked around her
there might be people looking
from those cottages up there
she said suddenly pointing up
at the rising bank which went up
to two cottages high up
if they see us they may tell Father
and then it would be awkward
and he might suspect things
and then she went quiet
and looked at the running stream
by the lane
but we haven't done anything
we just walk out and talk
and hold hands now and then
it's not what we do
it's what others think we do
she said softly
and stood looking at you
waiting for you to speak
but you said nothing
just leaned in close to her
and kissed her cheek
and said
even Christ permitted kisses
even the one from Judas
and she smiled
and the early morning sun
pushed through trees
and shone on her hair
and there was the sound of birds
singing in the air.
poem by Terry Collett
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The vision of your sleeping face
i keep remembering
the strands of your hair
silently breathing
each time i touch them
the rise and fall of your chest
is like the blood
that flows through my veins
and my eyes would wander
from your face
then stop at your hands
gently i touch them
warm and soft
the feeling i cannot erase
raising one gently to my lips
and kiss
even when i hold nothingness
i envision touching
your sweet sleeping face
brushing the hair out of your face
and placing a gentle kiss on your forehead
i remember walking away
and closing the door
as i whispered
“goodbye”.
poem by Marie Cris Ponsaran
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Branded By Hot Lips
Christina sat crossed legged
on the grass of the school playing field
her friends got up and left
as you arrived after school lunch
where's your friend Rolland?
she asked
gone off with Woolgar
to play football
you replied
she patted the grass
beside her
why don't you sit down?
she said
so you sat down beside her
looking at her dark brown hair
brushed so so
and her green summer dress
just covering her knees
the black shoes
and white ankle socks
completing the picture
as if your eyes
had mentally painted her
for later reference
she leaned forward
and kissed your forehead
a damp patched
the size of her lips
remained there
she said
something to remind you
of me afterwards
while you're sitting
in class doing boring history
or geography or whatever
thanks
you said
actually it's maths
which is even more boring
so the kiss memento
will come in handy
she laughed and looked away
you spotted Rolland
over the way
standing in a goal
between two coats
Cedric can see us out here
she said
breaking the brief silence
why does it matter
if your brother can see us?
Will he tell your parents?
she shrugged her shoulders
don't suspect so
she said
you gazed at her lips
as she spoke
and her hands on her knees
just laying there
palms down
he does watch us though
she said
maybe he's jealous
maybe he wants to sit here with me
you said
she laughed
don't be silly
she said
and you moved
towards her
and kissed her lips
and she pulled you
nearer to her
with one of her hands
behind your neck
and you smelt
lavender water
and her hair brushed
against your cheek
and when your lips
left hers
they felt branded
as if hot coals
had been there
and she said
that was wonderful
and over her shoulder
across the way
Rolland had let in
a goal as his stretched
out hand
missed the ball.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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We washed my car
It was a warm summers day
We washed my car outside
Talking, laughing, splashing
We washed the car with pride
You looked so cute and sexy
With soap suds in your hair
I stopped and smiled at you
And yes I had to stare
You looked at me and frowned
Oh how I loved that look
I laughed and simply smiled
You in my arms I took
Our hands were wet, so was the kiss
Our tongues were warm inside
Your body mine aroused
Your awesome smile so wide
We threw the sponges down
Together as fell
Wet and cold entwined
We kissed without a tell
poem by Bradley Lester
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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As They Dance
The heat rushed through her body
as she moved her body along side his
The movements were fast and breath taking
as they moved with the tempo of the music
His body bends back
as hers bends forward
His body bends forward
as hers bends back
Their bodies intertwined
as a vine on a wall
Their bodies move side to side
up and down
The music keeping the beat
as the danced
The stage lights dimmed to green
as they moved together
His hands run down her body
as she sways side to side
Her mouth open her eyes closed
his eyes on her body
He keeps his hands on her hips
as she ran her hands up his body to his face
Their lips met and their hearts raced
as the music stopped
poem by Bethany Maxwell
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First Kiss Blues
Oh, the beauty of that sunny day!
How wonderful, just to be with you!
A short and sweet picnic in the Park.
Not a care in the world.
There you were, stunning yet serene.
I reached forward to touch your hand.
You caressed my cheek.
I wanted to kiss you then.
A silent sigh swept over me.
I rested my head on the grass.
We looked up at the clouds together.
Two clouds coasted across the sky.
'Do you think they're in love, too? '
We made our way across town.
The streets as busy as they ever were.
'I've got to go to classes! ' you said...
And suddenly it happened...
You kissed me, instinctively.
I kissed you back, longingly.
It was so sudden, almost perfect...
With a bit of planning, it could have been.
But that first kiss only happens once...
In a second it was done,
Never to be repeated.
Yet with it comes the hope for seconds...
'See you tomorrow! ' you said...
Leaving me to live
The loneliest day of my life,
Without you...
poem by Denis Martindale
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The Body That Loves You
Love Sensual physical love
Is waiting here for you
Will you unleash my desire?
[CHORUS:]
These are the hands that'll touch you
These are the lips that'll kiss you
These are the arms that'll hold you
So come get this body that loves you
Oh how my heart does miss you
Love
Stroke me so gently my love
I love it when you mmmmm...
Will you unleash my desire?
[CHORUS]
Baby my heart's achin
My body longs for you
Candlelight and wine are waiting
Create the mood for
Love
Sensual physical love
Is waiting here for you
Will you unleash my desire?
[CHORUS]
As I behold you with my eyes
They'll undress you and you'll undress me too
I want to feel you move inside me
Oh how I long for your
Love
Sensual physical love
Is waiting here for you-hoo-hoo
Will you unleash my desire?
[CHORUS]
Love
Stroke me so gently my love
I love it when you mmmmmm
Will you release my desire?
[CHORUS]
Undress me
Slowly
(these are the hands that'll touch you)
I want to kiss you all over
Is that okay?
(these are the lips that'll kiss you)
We embrace...
Skin to skin
(these are the arms that'll hold you)
Hold me
Oh baby
My body's arched for you
(come get this body that loves you)
Come here
I've missed you so much
I forgot how good it could feel
(oh how my heart does miss you)
Please make love to me
(come get the body that loves you)
song performed by by Janet Jackson from Janet
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Trusting No Light
you wrap my body with your breasts
and i face the pillow my body presses
on the softness of materiality, you run
your fingers on my arms looking for
the secrets of my flesh, and i keep my
hands steady on the railing of the bed.
you whisper to my ear the tradition that
in true love there are no more secrets.
i smile to the white linen and i close my
eyes back to the horrors of my pasts.
you put your chin on my shoulder and
you kiss my hair and you caress my
head and neck down to my hip and butt.
you kiss me again and you signal that i
now must face you in this intimacy. And
i look at you and gently i kiss you in return.
I am Cupid and you are Psyche. I must tell
you again, i trust no light. Love exists
by itself, through itself, for itself, & in-itself.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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In Mr Atkinson's Room
You saw Judy on the south wing
of the old folks nursing home
near to Mr Atkinson's room
carrying towels in her arms
I need to speak to you
you said
what about?
she asked
you playfully bundled her
into Bob Atkinson's room
(he was either
in the lounge
or out down town
hobbling along
for small items of shopping
or at the second-hand
book shop looking
for boy's annuals
of yesteryear
which he read
from cover to cover
before cutting out
the pictures
and sticking them
in albums)
what are you doing?
she said
what if Bob comes in?
he won't
he's out
you said
but what if he does?
she whispered
well unless I was rogering you
to kingdom come
I don't think he'd mind
you said
pressing her 5'5'' body
against the door
and looking into her
grey blue eyes
she gazed
into your eyes
and said
what do you need
to talk to me about?
I think I'm in love with you
you said
she sighed
that's the umpteen time
you've told me that
she said
she dropped the towels
on Bob's bed
and put her arms
around your waist
and drew you closer
you moved your left hand
around her back
and your right hand
on her buttocks
and said
that's because it's
umpteen times worse
or better depending
how you look at it
she kissed you on the lips
and you sensed
her tongue touch yours
her eyes closed
and you closed yours
the room becoming
a far away place
her perfume blending
into the air about you
the ticktock of Bob's
old clock on the bedside table
like some metronome
setting the pace
as if it was all part
of some song or some
deep aspect
of a Bruckner symphony
she pushed you away
and said
it's nearly break time
and people will wonder
why we're not there
and put one
and one together
ok
you said
removing your hand
from her butt
the warmth still there
her eyes still captured
in your inner self
thank you
for the Chagall postcard
I've put it on
my bedside table
along with that photo
you gave me of you
got to go
she said
and opened the door
and walked off
down the passage
you looked around
Bob's room
at the ticking clock
and the blue
candlewick cover
and the picture
of some boy
cut out of some
old annual
chasing a dog
over a field
and Judy's lips
and tongue
seemed still
to be there
in your mouth
and her hand enfolding
your waist and back
and Peter in the pants
going all slack.
poem by Terry Collett
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One Passionate Kiss
Who thought that one kiss
One innocent kiss
That meant nothing at first
Could change everything
Could lead to things we have not experience
Could let us enjoy so much that
We've wanted for so long
Could make us feel the same feelings at the same time
Being really loved
Being whole
Being a part of something that's worth our time
Could make your eyes sparkle
As if you wouldn't want to be or doing
Anything else in the world
Could give us a natural high
Could give my soul wings
Makes my body feel as if it was floating in the clouds
Could make my eyes twinkle just like you were too
Steal two stars and plant then in my eyes
Could mean nothing at first but then stole our breath away
And from that moment on I have been hooked on you
I can't get enough of you
I always want more and more never doing enough for you
Always feeling that I need to do more
Or you deserve more
And ask myself why such a great man like you
Would want anything to do with such a not so great woman
But as I look into your dreamy eyes
All my worries explode my body like a
Ticking time bomb that went off
Who would think that such a harmless kiss
Could make me want so much more then
Such an innocent kiss
Would make me want to do
I never thought such a kiss excised but
The first time you looked into my eyes
With your dreamy eyes telling me
I love you baby without even speaking
Then your tender inexperienced lips pressed gently against mine
Nervous about if you're doing something wrong
But really you were doing everything right
The butterflies were got in a hurricane
And trying to fly out of it flapping
There wings as hard and as fast as they could
In my stomach
But could it really have hurt anything
It was only
One passionate kiss
poem by Mrs. Cynosure
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The House Of Dust: Part 02: 08: The Box With Silver Handles
Well,—it was two days after my husband died—
Two days! And the earth still raw above him.
And I was sweeping the carpet in their hall.
In number four—the room with the red wall-paper—
Some chorus girls and men were singing that song
'They'll soon be lighting candles
Round a box with silver handles'—and hearing them sing it
I started to cry. Just then he came along
And stopped on the stairs and turned and looked at me,
And took the cigar from his mouth and sort of smiled
And said, 'Say, what's the matter?' and then came down
Where I was leaning against the wall,
And touched my shoulder, and put his arm around me . . .
And I was so sad, thinking about it,—
Thinking that it was raining, and a cold night,
With Jim so unaccustomed to being dead,—
That I was happy to have him sympathize,
To feel his arm, and leaned against him and cried.
And before I knew it, he got me into a room
Where a table was set, and no one there,
And sat me down on a sofa, and held me close,
And talked to me, telling me not to cry,
That it was all right, he'd look after me,—
But not to cry, my eyes were getting red,
Which didn't make me pretty. And he was so nice,
That when he turned my face between his hands,
And looked at me, with those blue eyes of his,
And smiled, and leaned, and kissed me—
Somehow I couldn't tell him not to do it,
Somehow I didn't mind, I let him kiss me,
And closed my eyes! . . . Well, that was how it started.
For when my heart was eased with crying, and grief
Had passed and left me quiet, somehow it seemed
As if it wasn't honest to change my mind,
To send him away, or say I hadn't meant it—
And, anyway, it seemed so hard to explain!
And so we sat and talked, not talking much,
But meaning as much in silence as in words,
There in that empty room with palms about us,
That private dining-room . . . And as we sat there
I felt my future changing, day by day,
With unknown streets opening left and right,
New streets with farther lights, new taller houses,
Doors swinging into hallways filled with light,
Half-opened luminous windows, with white curtains
Streaming out in the night, and sudden music,—
And thinking of this, and through it half remembering
A quick and horrible death, my husband's eyes,
The broken-plastered walls, my boy asleep,—
It seemed as if my brain would break in two.
My voice began to tremble . . . and when I stood,
And told him I must go, and said good-night—
I couldn't see the end. How would it end?
Would he return to-morrow? Or would he not?
And did I want him to—or would I rather
Look for another job?—He took my shoulders
Between his hands, and looked down into my eyes,
And smiled, and said good-night. If he had kissed me,
That would have—well, I don't know; but he didn't . .
And so I went downstairs, then, half elated,
Hoping to close the door before that party
In number four should sing that song again—
'They'll soon be lighting candles round a box with silver handles'—
And sure enough, I did. I faced the darkness.
And my eyes were filled with tears. And I was happy.
poem by Conrad Potter Aiken
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Surprisingly Alive
Happiness is gone, it disappeared
It played me for years making me feel I deserved it
It was positive, and left me an optimist
I saw life through different eyes with happiness
It made me see what cannot be seen
It made me feel feelings I had not bothered to explore
I felt free beneath it's control
I felt invincible in it's arms
Happiness was my everything, it was my soul
It was what kept me moving forward
It was what made me want to live, to breath, to be
Then one day it left, it walked out on me
It left nothing behind but memories I could not have again
It walked out and never looked back
It walked out on me when I needed it the most
It pretended like nothing ever happened between us
Happiness kicked me towards sadness, it shoved me towards it
Then it left after it saw what happened
It got weak and left me alone
It left me crying behind the door
It left me bleeding on the bathroom floor
It left me wishing I had never lived
It left me screaming into my pillow in pain with sadness
It left me walking aimlessly at night with tears crawling down my face
It left me with the words 'I give up' floating above my head
It left me imagining what death would taste like
It left me cold, scared, hopeless, alone
It left...
poem by Mariam Abdelghani
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Cloud Formations and Jane..
I like cloud formations
Jane said
laying on her back
in the small church yard
looking up at the sky
above her head
it's like a form of art
you said
grey and white
against a canvas of blue
that looks like a man's head
Jane said
the way it forms
and unforms
you followed
the pointing
of her finger at the sky
that looks like a dog
over there
you said
she looked
and then gazed at you
her blue eyes
catching the sun's light
through a tree above
I like these moments alone
with you
she said
no one near us
no disturbance
no sounds save for birdsong
and the buzz of bees
you moved closer to her
and lay with you right hand
supporting your head
searching her eyes
her dark hair
about her face
daddy said
that Heaven is above us
and looking
at the cloud formations
I feel I see it
especially when the sun
shines through
she said
her lips moving
with slow motion
I think that sometimes
you said
she leaned nearer to you
and kissed your lips
then lay back
and stared at the clouds
and sky
and you lay back too
thinking inwardly
this is where
I'd like to lie
the day I die.
poem by Terry Collett
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Gone
As I lay here
I feel you laying behind.
I know you just want to be near,
To relax and rest your mind.
I feel your arms wrapped around me,
So strong, but yet still gentle,
Pulling me closer to your body
Being ever so careful.
Hearing you smell my hair
And feeling your breath on my neck
Right before you kiss me there.
You don't even bother to check
Because you know there is a smile spreading across my lips.
I hear you laugh a little in my ear
As your hand slides down to my hip
And your giggling is all I can hear.
You run your fingers through my hair
While you kiss the back of my head.
I can just tell how much you care,
With just the two of us in this bed.
I feel our own, unique closeness
As we just lay there together.
Only feeling you touch me with tenderness
And no need to say anything to one another.
I can feel the warmth coming off of your bare chest
And the strong muscles in your arms.
You're like my personal life vest
That will keep me away from harm.
I feel the tension in your body start to ease
And your grip on me begins to slacken.
Even though you give my hand a squeeze
I know it is just your reflexes kicking in.
Your breathing begins to even out
As you whisper, ' I love you. '
Without a single feeling of doubt
I say, ' I love you too. '
I roll over and open my eyes
In such shock I can't even yawn.
I feel like I'm going to die
Realizing that you are gone.
poem by Ashley Reese
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It Starts With A Kiss
It starts with a kiss,
That brings the world down,
A kiss,
That makes my body give in,
It starts with a kiss,
And your hands,
Slowly moving down my back,
And lifting me up to put my legs around you,
It starts with a kiss,
Our lips will do what they do,
My lips will part,
When yours do,
It starts with a kiss,
With my hands through your hair,
And with your hands on my waist,
Man this world seems to quake,
It starts with a kiss,
Man this is so fair,
Your lips feel so good,
On mine that just sit their,
It starts with a kiss,
That makes the whole room stop,
They see sparks fly,
And the room glow in a light so pure,
It starts with a kiss,
But when your lips leave mine,
My neck feels their company,
Then my body gives into you,
It starts with a kiss,
Your lips seem to know what to do,
Cause they are moving up and down my neck,
Once that ends they find my lips again,
It starts with a kiss,
And my body sub comes to you,
And once again,
The Kiss Is Where It All Begins! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
Anne and the Boys's Bath Night
It was the boys' bath night
and you had bathed
and were drying yourself
with the white towel
they had given you
when the bathroom door flew open
and Anne stood there one-legged
in her pink flowered nightdress
perching on her crutches like a hawk
her eyes bright and dark
a smile lingering on her lips
well bugger me
she said
what a sight
for a girl's lovesick eyes
and she entered the bathroom
and pushed the door shut
behind her with her bottom
almost uncrutching herself
in the process
you pulled the towel
tight around you
and stared at her
it's the boys' bath night
you muttered
girls aren't allowed in
while boys bath
she moved over
to the mirror
and gazed at herself
you're right
she said
I'm not a boy
I'm a tight titted girl
and she laughed
and crutched herself
over towards you
making you flatten yourself
against the wall
gripping the towel with one hand
and holding her back
with the other
and she leaned down
and kiss the back of your hand
then looked you deep in the eyes
what have you got hidden
behind that towelling skirt then?
she said
and you gripped the towel tighter
with both hands
and she menacingly moved
one hand cautiously towards the towel
her armpits gripping
the crutches tightly
as she moved
you shouldn't be in here
you said
I'm not in there yet
she laughed and grabbed
the towel away with a force
that took her and the towel
toppling to the bathroom floor
where she lay
like an overturned beetle
you stood naked
your hands covering
what your father
called your toolbox
gazing down at her struggling
to get up
well don't just stand there
like a prize parrot
help pick me up
she said
and so with one hand covering
you knelt down to help lift her up
but then she pulled you
down beside her
and laughed
and her laughter echoed
around the walls
but then she paused
and put a hand
over her mouth
hearing Sister Bridget's
nearby footsteps
and noisy calls.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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