I would like to be a writer. I began this site with amorous intentions, and over the course of time, I hope to have evolved as a male in an ever changing society that is today, recognizing the true beauty and elegance of woman. My words and notions will I hope respond in poetic verse of many genre and style. Come along and please share your ideas and insights. Thank you for your visit.

Posts tagged “woman

While I Wander


wander.png

while I wander
I land
imagine I
am in this quiet
where only gasps will
speak
we find each other
the mystique
of
knowing center


Stand In Wonder


Margarita_Magoo

Margarita_Margoo


For they do, they will,

some might, some,

well,

it is what they will.

 

Yet, woman as seen,

spectacular

with natural elegance,

oh perhaps, a clever seduction.

 

This is me, in my moment,

not meant for your base

alignment of my purpose,

more simply meant to be …

 

It is that lovely part of the

human mystique,

I do so enjoy the linens,

allow me to respond.

 

A silent night,

and a movie star,

is born,

it is an old Hollywood script.

 

Yet, when we are all done,

the saddest tales on the

cutting room floor,

remember this is me.

 

For tonight, I’m a rising star,

in a sultry red dress,

a lovely LA steam draws

my skin tight silk fantasy.


Wake With a Smile


Quite some time has passed,

when my eyes might open,

and this feeling of love,

all I needed,

began my morning,

sunlight drifting in

suggesting no timeline

only memory

of what is love

her love

her beauty and elegance

that which does

drive my words,

drive me to want to yearn,

give me a certain drive

to find more reason to create

those moments,

those soft, gentle reminders,

of what it is,

she can bring to my life,

in just a glance,

a smile,

a look across the room with

parted lips,

it is that simple peace …

Oh how cherish to wake knowing

she has taught me love like no one other.


This Time


There was this time,

I wanted her,

she looked my way,

I imagined how we might,

find our way,

I glanced,

a stretch would indicate a desire,

or perhaps only  a need for comfort

beyond the alluring eyes of

a man.

For that is my design,

I am that set of eyes,

lustful and wanting,

wishing somehow she might

acknowledge or rather …

pounce.

 

For a smile is always a lovely occasion.


Morning Sense


waking

in that our quiet
did we
once
when moonlight
struck a chord
did we
once
know the beauty
is such sweet
sensuality
spontaneity

her touch

photo – pinterest


My Time Is My Own


A mantra with meaning,

a saying to suggest,

a memory,

quiet in its discretion, its wishful

mnemonic fortune.

Oh, to have the time to say the words,

to know the reaction, to see the eyes,

to feel the lips, to taste the passion,

to understand the mystique

is drawn inside our own set of fashion,

our world together,

it is in that quiet alley way,

where romance did lean against stucco walls,

inside a broken world,

where healing hands and gasps and fires

did maintain some semblance of peace

internalized by the conflict of our realities.

Oh to know the sweet spirit of love

in all its natural abandon

preserved by the symbolic nature

of heart and soul.

Oh to taste the fire of dewy eyes in winter’s landscape.


When Wishing We Make Love


One might wonder

the occasion

to know the

passionate embrace,

the metaphysical,

inspirational,

devotional desire

to want the motion,

to wish,

to make love.

 

One might imagine,

when in the moment,

intensity,

abandon,

the sort allows our bodies

a shelter

to land upon, inside, beyond,

to feel this surreal nature

of sensuality drawn upon

years inside a quiet energy,

waiting, wanting,

finding that reach,

the place,

sweet serenity is a cliche

that might not ever describe

the truly incomprehensible

vision,

knowing the moment.

 

One might always

wander,

asking the reveal,

swift is the response

to finding her mystique

knowing, believing, wishing

to comfort

such aspect of truth

is inherent

when lost in the throes

of wishing only peace

to be the

center of woman.