22 May 2010

Poetically Prosaic

Not much to say on this chilly Saturday morning so I've posted a few poems for you. The first one is what I call poetic prose. Written like a normal story, but filled with poetic rhythm and imagery.

I hope you enjoy.

S.J.


Moonlight

I watch the moonlight on your face. Tonight, this night. The curtains cracked open, no more than an inch and you lie, beside me, before me.
Huddled like spoons your warmth and mine, together. Your face framed in the ray of silver light, enhancing, glowing. I lay my arm around you pulling you near to a soft, sweet murmur of delight. Yet you sleep, enamoured in your dreams. I watch you. Feeling in my heart, no other could be here like this, no other could be the one, the thing I need. You are my life. As you breathe, each breath a pleasure, guarantees your nearness. The apex of my love, founded in you, soft, warm.
Your hair, silver in the glistening corona, shines, frames and wanders tenderly about your face. Soft face, so calm, so sweet. Pure as the purest stream and refreshing my life, my love, each night as I lie awake and watch. Watch you, love you. Though I too should sleep I yearn each day for this moment of tenderness, when your trust and vulnerability are left to me to protect, to shield.
I will love you, I will love you to the last of my breath, though they take my soul, my body, my mind. I will love you. Whilst there is spirit within me, none shall take that away. And even from the depths of hell or the heights of heaven I will love you then. Even more so for you are that which most enlivens me. My life, my love.
Softly, softly in your sleep you turn. Eyes, still closed in tender dream to snuggle closer, warmer, feeling my arms wrap strongly about you, protecting, caring. I watch.
And as the moonlight moves and fades so still I watch, for there are many days when even pleasure like this is not mine to share, for you are not here. I am not there. But in my mind I watch. In my dreams I lie with you whilst silver light and fairy streams are woven, taut, about you. Holding you, loving you.
I watch. I watch and long for that moment, that time when love again can rise and glow within your eyes, when the dawning sun is dimmed by the passion within, the love, the need, the you.
And then, I know, as I watch now, so too will you.



Renewed

Waiting,
with silence, lying near, to see
the breath of love
that speaks
that makes you close.
Thrills me.
I touch your cheek, feel your sigh
with tender, tender touch.
Within a fire the longing burns
a cavalcade of need,
the yearning, wanting
hope and love
the tenderness, suceeds.
Soft lips tremble with soft embrace
two come together to kiss,
the warmth and wet,
esquisitely brushed
the heart skips o'er a beat
Soft touch trailing, from cheek and down
soft the neck where kisses
are stewn,
and more, for loves
most intimate pulse
there lies, there beats.
To feel much more
my hand would wander to
cup, to hold you near
Each kiss, I kiss, to bring your fervour near.
And more, much more for soft rising flesh
the touch of breast, I meet
to brush against with
chastened lips,
to taste a joy
so sweet.
More, much more, hands that try
to find a love to meet.
to kiss and follow, love's only touch
to love and hold and keep,
Yet further more my lips will search,
Seeking the more your joy
until the stars of heaven burst
with gently licks employ.
Such tender touch with hands and tongue
will wake afresh, renew,
the womanhood, once thought was lost
once thought,
but now
is you



The moment


Candle light, glimmer,
Soft,
Soft in her eyes.
Feel it together, a passion
will rise,
and so
it goes until lovers begin.
The song, never ending, never
begin.
Sweet touch,
that softens, walks with the beat
of breathless, desire,
a longing to meet
that moment, when higher
the spirits, love soars
flesh glowing,
love growing
more, cries more.
Lips, tender, parted.
Moistened anew
felt, then restarted the
passion
regrew.
Together, sensations that
both had thought lost
began moving,
flowing,
as he entered
her trust.
Soft, glowing, the candlelight glimmers
soft touching, moving
the passion now simmers
deeper, stronger
the movements
increase,
such moments, forever, like these
must not cease.
yet soon,
pleasure,
control, out of mind
brings tormentous moments
of lust that is blind
of needing, clasping,
drawing, him in
bursting,
exploding
from showers within.
Such love, now tender
with moments of peace
Will never, forever,
never cease.


Copyright S.J. Willing.

www.sjwilling.com

1 comment:

sjwilling said...

Poets Traditionally are the starving artists LOL