prose

The Gift

I’m feeling an ache

A longing between my thighs…

It gives rise to the surprise

I’ve been saving.

Sin craving,

Lust escalating.

Fingers strumming,

Moans humming.

Body writhing,

Can’t contain…

Won’t subside.

Oh Lover, please

Please…

Come inside

Your gift is waiting

gift (2)

Fulfilled

Their cup is full

It overflows

It’s rich and warm

She sips it slow

It’s a taste

She’s tried before

Now it’s sweeter

She longs for more

He fills her cup

Until it overflows

With depth and love

Their passion grows

She drinks him in

He sips her slow

So warm and rich

They overflow

couple coffee

Dried Flowers

You churned the dirt

And planted the seed

From within

You saw her need

Hidden well

Far below

She longed for air

She longed to grow

At first the garden tended well

No worms, no weeds

No petals fell

She sprouted forth

So alive

Blossoms opened

And she thrived

But after time

It all passed

For without air

She’d not last

No food to nourish

Or sun to shine

Planted in a bed

Wasting time

The stem it droops

Her petals dried

The blossoms fall

The flower dies

It’s too late now

To sow the seed

To water, to nourish

To kill the weed

And looking back

Who’s to blame?

The sun, the earth?

Or the lack of rain?