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Larry @ 04-16-18 22:39
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RC James @ 04-2-18 23:26
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No Words*
Posted by Larry - 04-16-18 22:39 - 0 comments
No Words

There are no words which might express
the gratitude and happiness
that fills my heart each morn and eve.
I’m always reticent to leave
my new back porch but I confess

a friend who thought that he would bless
me with this gift could not believe
the lifelong praise he would receive.
There are no words!

He took what once was a big mess
of a back yard when I said yes
to kindness. I could not conceive
that this, his best recitative,
would shelter me. I’d have to guess
there are no words.
Read 24 times - make a comment   

Prelude to an Unrehearsed Waltz
Posted by RC James - 04-2-18 23:26 - 0 comments
She assaulted my eyes with percussive light,
ratatattatting against dream window panes,
pulse set at zero, she amped it up to racing,
her sauciness teamed with shy eyelid flutter.

Her voice had the tone of midnight river-flow,
not a hallucination, a vivid portrait breathing
answers to street ruckus, hushed revelations.

There was a wispy nonchalance in her walk,
as she snuck quick looks over walls she knew
not as barriers, but vantage to a better view.

Across a Ukranian café table, we sent glances
each other’s’ way, both of us gaining insight
into that first-sight axiom’s truth in spades,
carrying the night before us into florid delights.

Desire, unbidden, entertained us with its ins,
its outs, its provocations alive, rapt in a view
of sensuousness sprung alive, alert to our
bodies’ twisting, indelicate, sensual spasms.

In an after-hours club, carousers brushed past us,
brash, blind to our active magnet-attraction. A fight
commenced, I sprang to separate them, bottles
crashing, chairs upended; hostilities ceased, she
moved from the back, and touched my arm lightly.

I asked her to dance; put off by the whip-lash
dancers, she demurred silently and bloomed
inside me with notes of her own feline dance,
unrevealed to any other witness, as I embraced
in thought her burgeoning waist, lithe as mist.

Pre-dawn at her fifth-floor walk-up, eros tossed
us back and forth next to the kitchen bathtub,
until a well-centered kiss found our lips willing.
I ushered up another request for a dance now;
her lips, still moist from mine, separated into
an unspoken sly pout, defining non-resistance,
and we moved to the center of these recollections.
Read 49 times - make a comment   

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