- Erotic Poetry
- Crazy Bubbles
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Work weary, you slowly sink
into the warm, fragrant water
jasmine scented steam
induces dreams of he who
seems so distant during these
trying times
Your mind wanders, floats
amidst the bath bubbles,
leaves your troubles sinking
to the tub bottom
Aches turn to yearning
for too long absent caresses
palms cupping your breasts,
which now bob like bouys
on an empty ocean
Eyelids drop like sailcloth
catch your desires, carry you
to past ports of call
where the two of you
roamed cobblestone streets,
heels clicking to heartbeats,
along stucco walled alleys
with alcove cafes, lovers laughing
Even now, the lighthouse beacon
pulses pink in your vision
his kisses linger on your forehead,
across your face and down your body
leaving in their wake,
remembrances of fingernails
traced along your thighs
You open your eyes,
the room is shadowed
with candlelight illumination
he is there, preparing to please you,
underwater exploration is his specialty
knees spread, his head bows
in search of buried treasure,
he submerges, purges his lungs
sends jets of air surging
whirling along pleasures passage
massaging, tingling, tickling
toes curl, tummy clenches
fingers reel his face into you,
you realize this is no mirage,
but the return of your wayward sailor
showering you in adoration
- COMMENTS
Syndra Lynnover 18 years agoI enjoyed this one twice.
Come by the café and see me sometime big boy!
Syn
Anonymousover 18 years agoThis is hilarious, TT! A perfect blend of moaning and mirth. Well done!
Fly
Angelineover 18 years agoSexy and tender. I agree with Lauren--you write a great erotic poem. :)
My Erotic Taleover 18 years agoyou with words of praise would not be enough, this is a reminder of how much I enjoy your writes. Thanks for the Journey.
Lauren Hyndeover 18 years agoTHIS is how to one writes erotic poetry. The rhythm was perfect for the piece, accelerating at times and lolling at others, and the metaphors drip from your tongue, one related to the next, flowing.
There was only one place where I felt the image was too in-your-face, almost brushing the burlesque:
-- he is there, preparing to please you,
-- underwater exploration is his specialty
--
-- knees spread, his head bows
-- in search of buried treasure
I can't quite put my finger on it, but I think there could be a more lyrical approach there, or more original - something that was present in the rest of the poem and faltered a little there.
