THE GOBLET

It is so nice to go on a date with the man of my dreams but the best part of the date is going home...

Returning home from a sterile show

My passion for you beginning to grow

Enough formality for one night
Alone at last; no one else in sight

My body awakens to your touch
Off with the dress; confining too much
Stroke me slowly, baby make me hot
Rub my back; loosen the knot

Lie me naked on the floor
You reach for the Goblet filled once more
Dip your fingers into the succulent lotion
Kneading, caressing; intoxicating motion

The liquid warms as it touches my skin
You straddle my waist and we begin
Warm wet fingers tracing a line
Back to the Goblet; more lotion DIVINE!

 

Touching my body, moving lower still

Intensity growing Oh My what a thrill
Massaging my legs; drawing out the tension
Heading towards your goal; perfection

As my legs part; I feel your breath at my back
Arching my body; can hardly hold back
I try to roll over getting closer still
You push me back down, for your touch I could KILL

"NO NO NO; Uh UH Not Yet"
"You're not moving until your soaking wet"
I'm panting for his tongue which now replaced his hands
Down my spine, across one hip; man I love his plans

His rough rugged grasp moves to my waist
Turning me over; now we are face to face
Tilting the Goblet over my breasts
Pouring out more lotion; now there's nothing left

Grinding my body slowly; now teasing him
Breathless he says "You may begin"
The Goblet is empty; I need to be filled
We bathed in the lotion; not a drop was spilled

As he slips inside; I'm ready to peak
It feels so good; unable to speak
I ride him hard; rocking and squeezing so tight
This is what I wanted all fucking night

Fingers entwined, eyes locked as we advance
Our bodies collide in the orgasmic dance


PG   2010

FOCUS

The following notation explains my reasons for writing poetry in the first place.  When I am feeling anxious, angry, aggravated, woeful, sexy, harmonious or plain livid, the words seem to flow...fortunately for me I can put them into a rhythmic motion bringing impassioned thoughts to life. 

When life is out of focus
And you've lost your path or course
Sit back, relax;  lock yourself away
Go inside to the place where you always know what to say

Pick up a pen and gouge at the page
It's here a war on emotion is waged
Here begins a circle of wasted cognizant time
Cluster of words in your head before being displayed in rhyme

Tangled and confused as they grace each awaiting page
Where their meaning becomes you're very own center stage
Therapeutic for me, could help you find where you belong
Your own craft, creation, revelation or song



Simply joyous or wrought with true misery
They're mine alone, cannot be take from me
Go inside and find the words you possess
Be brave, jot it down; with that pen point press

Be not afraid of what you find
Thoughts can be pure, evil, sweet or merely unkind
They must not be significant indeed
It will make you feel better and fill an emotional need.

So go ahead and lock yourself away
Jot down what it is you've been dying to say.


October 2002
PG