Sleeping Breath
Hours before the dawn,
The soft moonlight seeps
Through an open upstairs window,
A blanket is tossed from the bed,
And a woman’s glorious nakedness
Is proud in the kingdom
Of uninhibited dreams.
One imagines heaven
To be an eternity of golden slumber
Where a woman’s chest
Rises and falls
In a restful rhythm
While her sleeping breath
Fashions invisible kisses.
Unspeakable joy
Emanates from every desire
To gaze for uninterrupted hours
Upon her ivory shoulders
Gently brushed by brunette hair.
poem by Uriah Hamilton
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A Man and Woman
The Difference between a Man and a Woman;
When Man needs your silver hugs and caressing kisses,
Woman needs your mind as well.
When Man taunts your falls and misses
Woman shares a laughing spell.
When Man tells you all will be right
Woman tells you the mistake.
When Man starts leaving during fight
Woman sees through all that fake
Woman, with her knowing eyes and blowing hair
Man with muscles and puppy smile.
Woman with her bounty fair
Man's will last just for a while.
Which is better; man or woman?
woman or man?
Men are gifts we love to open, while women that we can save.
Wednesday Morning 3 A.M.
I can hear the soft breathing of the girl that I love
As she lies here beside me asleep with the night
And her hair in a fine mist floats on my pillow
Reflecting the glow of the winter moonlight
She is soft, she is warm, but my heart remains heavy
And I watch as her breasts gently rise, gently fall
For I know with the first light of dawn I'll be leaving
And tonight will be all I have left to recall
Oh, what have I done; why have I done it
I've committed a crime, I've broken the law
For twenty-five dollars and pieces of silver
I held up and robbed a hard liquor store
My life seems unreal, my crime an illusion
A scene badly written in which I must play
Yet I know as I gaze at my young love beside me
The morning is just a few hours away
song performed by by Simon & Garfunkel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I am the woman
I am the woman who is unstoppable
I am the woman
Whose dreams are immeasurable
I am the woman
Of a different breed, unbelievable
I am the woman
Of all times, incredible
I am a woman
With passion and purpose, unspeakable
I am the woman
Who decides where I should fall
In this universe, unpredictable
I am the woman
Who refuse to lessen my dreams
To meet man’s expectation, inconceivable
I am a woman
Of greatness and this greatness
Should never be compromise, remarkable
I am that GREAT WOMAN
poem by Kathy Elliott
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A whiskey Love
Through a glass of Whiskey I found her.
Her eyes, Flaming Blue, hiding a glance of Heaven
Her hair golden like the reflection of an English buttercup,
Open to the flirtations of the sun.
Her lips soft, pink,
Like the dawn over a distant tulip field,
With a promise to reveal, even more,
Moist, sweet, the taste of a woman
Her neck, slim, elegant, with a hint of summer,
Jeweled with faint dew drops from the evenings heat
Her shoulders, graceful, a ballerinas calling
Perfectly formed, a place for heroes,
To rest their head
Her arms slender, delicate, with a promise of an angels embrace
An embrace that could wash away, all your sins
Her dress clinging to her body, like the lilies in a pond,
Hiding the secrets below
Her wrist adorned with a single pearl,
But it is she who is more precious
No mortal offering could eclipse her.
Her hands soft, with a touch,
That I would gladly die for.
No ring, dare I wish?
Her legs, long, perfectly formed,
Made to move, like a gentle summer wind,
Caressing the flowers of some meadow,
In a faraway dream. Breathtaking.
When she walked the whole world stood still
She glanced, our eyes met
My soul was stolen,
Engulfed in flames of desire
My heart penetrated, laid bear with a love so rare,
My mind lost in sweet expectation.
A feeling beyond, any poets gaze
She smiled, my body quivered
For this moment, I would gladly lead the forlorn hope.
These seconds, I remember them so well.
I was overwhelmed by the closeness of her spirit,
Her presence commanding an invisible audience,
Of stolen glances, a vision of woman,
Of such form, such desire, such love.
Then like a gentle whisper, her body, brushed against mine
Leaving the air perfumed
Like orchids being carried by a holy dove.
Then my heart shattered, strewn across the floor,
Like yesterday’s confetti.
For the smile, was for someone else.
poem by Steven Cooke
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Baby's Breath
“It’s not flesh and blood, but heart which makes us fathers and sons” Johann von Schiller
Caressing soft blanket
Warmth spreads
Beneath her breast
Baby’s breath
With tender touches
Rocking gently
Joy spills tears
Baby’s breath
Beneath her chest
Is heaven scent
Window lace drawn
Her eyes glitter
Baby’s breath
Against her neck
In rhyme with hearts together
Nightingale sings
Crescent moon shinning
Baby’s breath
Beneath her chest
In her arms asleep
It’s not flesh and blood, but heart which makes us mother & babe.
(June 2011)
poem by Jo Ann Zsilavetz
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This Woman
There is this woman made for me
this woman craves for me
I love this woman so true
and I know that she loves me too
There is this woman who kisses me
this woman pleases me
I take this woman to be my wife
and I know she wants me for life
There is this woman who dreams about me
This woman makes love to me
When I lay against this woman to sleep
I feel a love towards her so deep
There is this woman who loves me
This woman was made for me
I desire her in every possible way
This woman is my night and day
poem by Pablo Loves Life
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Moonlight Woman
Her long black hair flowing
Eyes that look through you
Hands that show no labour
A heart that is ever so true
Moonlight Woman
She creeps in the back door
All for a discreet embrace
Her lips are soft and ready
The look of lust on her face
Moonlight Woman
She wants to be held so close
Two giggles you here at night
Such a twisted sort of love
But she makes everything right
Moonlight Woman
poem by Suelynn Walters
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Soft Breasts
Soft breasts
On a summer mattress,
There’s a lilac breeze
Wafting gently
Through an open window.
To gaze into her eyes
Would be like wading
In a magical stream
Of eternal youth.
I’m dazzled by her hair
Flirting with the butterfly tattoo
Flying on her perfect left shoulder,
I’m tenderly crushed by desire.
She abruptly rises from the bed
When she notices me
Painting her portrait
On the canvas of my mind.
She contemplates
Turning me out of the house
Like a servant,
But she understands, I’ll suffer more
Watching her every move.
poem by Uriah Hamilton
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An Auspicious Beginning
Giving woman her just due
Is really what a man should pursue
Never wishing to make woman blue.
Working hard to see it through
Taking an opportune time for rest
Laying woman (gently) upon his chest
As to shower her with hugs and kisses
Then catering to her wishes.
It is not always a man's
Money a woman desire,
It could be that...
Spur of the moment FIRE.
That unsuspected tap on the fanny
That unscheduled luncheon date.
Something she would never...
Anticipate.
Whatever it is,
It would be great.
Never, never, never...wait.
Surprising a woman,
The last I heard,
Was the gospel,
And the word.
Let her know she is always
Strikingly Attractive...
Her walk, and moves
Make you active.
Let her know that you are pleased
Filling her day with love and ease.
whisperkwane
poem by whisperkwane Lamb
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Her Hidden Treasure
Her flame was only for the women –
Not for us unlucky men;
A weakness lay for feminine way:
To feel an even fairer skin
In silky slide.
Her lips were for the satin love that
Only flows from rising breast;
The creamy tan was not for man
To pull towards a chiselled chest
In weathered hide.
Her hidden treasure down below
Would shy away from macho length
And only rouse upon the blouse
Undone by other sapphic strength –
In time, inside!
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Women for the Men
To clasp a silken-textured breast
Is nothing but a daily quest
Of preternatural drive.
We wonder of the fulsome fare
Her bra undone might bring to bear -
Disclosing all so we may stare
For hours on end upon the pair of
Why-do-woman's-curves-ensnare-
the-brains- of-men? -
A bleak affair,
And why we still survive!
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Chauvinist
I’d never really comprehended such a mighty range of
Shapes and sizes down behind, it’s really rather strange:
The buttock muscle in a woman, overlaid with fat
Is actually such a focal point for men to want to pat
Or squeeze, and then to tease her if it’s eminently stout,
Or even risk a stay in clink to sting it with a clout!
After all, we men are tuned to be that way inclined –
And tho’ our needs are varied, girls, they’re all perverse of mind!
Best of all, our sacred dream: to see her shed her gown
When gliding to the shower for the ritual sponging down.
But then alas! With body lathered, oops! she drops the soap;
‘Please! ’ we beg her, ‘bend and bare! ’ But we can only hope!
I’m sure by now you get the picture – like a rule of thumb –
That men like me obsess all day about the fairer bum.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
My dreams are of a
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woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Yours
They told me love don't last forever
Now i understand
To think that only yesterday
You held me in your hands
And i became a woman
And you became the world , to me
I was lost , no dream to high
No star to far apart
Your carpet ride holding me
You led me to believe that i was yours, yours
I swallowed every lie
And you will cry when i'm away ,on your own , like me
When i was yours
(break)
I could live my life without you, that is not enough
I can't lie awake believin' you don't want my love
Alone in my desire
And still the fire burns , my friend
I was there . i loved you well
Though we are far apart , i love you still
I relive the very moment when you called me yours , yours
Don't let me die inside
Save me from the memories, the hours that i cried
Say to me that i am yours, yours , mine eternity
And you will cry when i'm away
On your own , like me ,when i was yours
Yours, yours , don't let me die inside
Save me from the memories, the hours that i cried
Say to me that i am yours , yours for eternity
And you will cry when i'm away
The hours that i cry
Say to me that i am yours, yours
Don't let me die inside (fade out ) ......
song performed by by Bee Gees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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{absolute Fulfillment Of Woman}
Woman needs mans presence near
To see the warmth and understanding
In such loving beautiful eyes
Woman needs mans protection
To envelop her in strong arms
So safely she can slumber
Woman needs mans heart
To show undying devotion
To know it is her he cannot live without
Woman needs mans touch
Her flesh burns in desire
For the love he so gently tenders
Woman needs man near
Within her heart and very soul
He is the completion of her.........
poem by Lillian Jamison
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Is All About You
1 hour unity,
2 hours peace,
3 hours playing,
4 hours sleeping,
5 hours smiling,
6 hours living,
7 hours trusting in your muse!
For this river is mine and yours foeevers;
And, i want to be close to you always.
1 hour smiling,
2 hours learning,
3 hours thinking,
4 hours with your muse,
5 hours teaching,
6 hours working,
But, the 7th hour comes for me to sleep with you;
Because, this love is all about you! !
And, i want to be with you always.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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California Sunshine Woman
L purdom
California woman
Hanging heavy on my mind
Never found another like her
Guess she was just one of a kind
She never wrapped no strings around me
She could treat a man so fine
I still see her golden hair
And the caliifornia sunshine
Mississippi rain falling on my head
No california woman sleeping in my bed
Makes me wanna move on, leave all this behind
I need my california woman and the california sunshine
Golden california beaches
Knocking on a beach house door
They say that california woman
She dont live here anymore
They say she left with a stranger
Leaving nothing left behind
She buried all my dreams here
In the california sunshine
Mississippi rain falling on my head
No california woman sleeping in my bed
Makes me wanna move on, leave all this behind
I need my california woman and the california sunshine
I need my california woman and the california sunshine
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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320
it happens all the time
when the right man feels
that he has wed the wrong woman
when the wrong woman too
feels that he has
wed the wrong man,
mutuality of affections
on errors
i sometimes feel that too
and i ask again
have i married the wrong woman?
have i been the right man
claiming all along that i am
the right man?
why? did the trials not work
for both of us?
twelve years
the feeling about right and wrong is over now
i wake up early dawn
still sleeping beside her
at least in the silent lonely hours of my life
i have this companion
and she is warm beside me
and then i think again
she can be right
and i can be wrong
who knows?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Wrong Woman For The Man Who Feels He Is The Right Man
it happens all the time
when the right man feels
that he has wed the wrong woman
when the wrong woman too
feels that he has
wed the wrong man,
mutuality of affections
on errors
i sometimes feel that too
and i ask again
have i married the wrong woman?
have i been the right man
claiming all along that i am
the right man?
why? did the trials not work
for both of us?
twelve years
the feeling about right and wrong is over now
i wake up early dawn
still sleeping beside her
at least in the silent lonely hours of my life
i have this companion
and she is warm beside me
and then i think again
she can be right
and i can be wrong
who knows?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The fourth woman
I am honest enough to appear
As myself to her: a naked man that she can touch
In a dark room, as dark as her hair
She was laughing and keeps on changing her
Form, she is liquid, and takes a lot of shapes
She transforms from bat to frog, to tigress
To lioness to kangaroo to dino
To amazon to samurai to warrior to mulan
To a street protester to clenched fists
She loves me she cannot love me like
I am a man to her, who kisses her and
Licks her, she cannot have anything overwhelming
She cannot be overpowered with anything
Including desire.
Naked, I pulled my brief and trousers and belted
Myself and took my shirt and buttoned loose ends
I am tight tongued.
She looks away but she is back in her form: a woman
A beautiful woman betrayed.
She kisses me. It was too late, I have become invisible
I was no longer in her room, as dark as her hair.
I take some pains with me. It won’t take long, I will be home.
My geisha is waiting. She is always there in the fealty of woman.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Her Desire for 40G
Now back when I was 28,
I met and loved a 38 –
DD!
Hmm…I never really saw her eyes…
Perhaps I never needed to –
‘Twas all about her size.
Come on, be honest,
You really show surprise?
Oh yes, the storyline:
One sunny day she said to me,
‘I need to make you happy, see,
By undergoing surgery
So you can have my guarantee
That when you see my 40G,
You’ll hit new heights of ecstasy! ’
‘Phew! ’ I drew a breath.
‘Well thank you dear, you’re very kind,
But won’t you risk me going blind?
If one of those should catch my eye,
I’m sure to wave them both goodbye;
And after all, you’re rather tall –
With extra weight you’ll likely fall;
Forwards, I should clarify.
Hmm…we’re back again to my poor eye.’
‘It’s all about your precious sight! ’
She screamed at me with all her might,
‘I only want to make you proud
And me to stand out in the crowd.’
‘You do already stand right out!
Any more, then there’s no doubt
You might as well just poke me blind,
So in the streets I’ll tag behind,
Unaware of all the fuss,
Especially when on the bus –
Assuming you could squeeze on board…
Hmm…at least I know I’ll be ignored…
Okay – go get them done.’
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
woman woman woman woman woman woman
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woman woman woman woman
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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