short and sweet.....
Its Platonic
Platonic my eye,
I yearn
for the fullness
of your tongue
making me
burst forth
pleasure after pleasure,
after dark,
soaking all my dreams.
Rita Ann Higgins
[quote=Stef F;310156]Good evening Freckle
My fire alarm is up and running
it took two batteries the greedy thing
now I can sleep easy in my bed!
Phew!........me toonice one stef
I may not have kids but I can relate to the poem...I remember the day when I realised that my little terrier would soon no longer fit in my backpack when I went cycling....it was a day of sadness...now she is chubby, grumpy, hairy and a bit deaf, I guess it happens to us all!![]()
Just to add to the list of vehicular mishaps that seem to have happened to fell poets recently, I managed to fall of my bike tonight. While it was stationary on the turbo!One minute I was peddling quite enthusiastically, next minute draped over the tumble dryer with the instant shock turning to giggles.
Note to self: Check back wheel is fastened on correctly before starting next time.![]()
Kisses
Kisses kept are wasted;
Love is to be tasted.
There are some you love, I know;
Be not loathe to tell them so.
Lips go dry and eyes grow wet
Waiting to be warmly met.
Keep them not in waiting yet;
Kisses kept are wasted.
Edmund Vance Cooke
Alf's poem about dreams was lovely and it somehow reminded me of one of my all time fave's which was posted in the early days of this thread.....
Lullaby
Lay your sleeping head, my love,
Human on my faithless arm;
Time and fevers burn away
Individual beauty from
Thoughtful children, and the grave
Proves the child ephemeral:
But in my arms till break of day
Let the living creature lie,
Mortal, guility, but to me
The entirely beautiful.
Soul and body have no bounds:
To lovers as they lie upon
Her tolerant enchanted slope
In their ordinary swoon,
Grave the vision Venus sends
Of supernatural sympathy,
Universal love and hope;
While abstract insight wakes
Among the glaciers and the rocks
The hermit's sensual ecstasy.
Certainty, fidelity
On the stroke of midnight pass
Like vibrations of a bell,
And fashionable madmen raise
Their pedantic boring cry:
Every farthing of the cost,
All the dreaded cards foretell,
Shall be paid, but from this night
Not a whisper, not a thought,
Not a kiss nor look be lost.
Beauty, midnight, vision dies:
Let the winds of dawn that blow
Softly round your dreaming head
Such a day of sweetness show
Eye and knocking heart may bless,
Find your mortal world enough;
Noons of dryness see you fed
By the involuntary powers,
Nights of insult let you pass
Watched by every human love.
W.H. Auden