Sweet Dreams & Rude Awakenings

I Love You; Three

Standing atop the cliff; completely alone
An emperors cloak to coat this cold
Choices to be made, in blood’s sake’s name

My toughened-up skin, from family & kin
I was blessed & did eventually win:
Two wonderful children
A lover who liked, as much as I, to sin

I always made time for peace & to atone
As you encapsulated my scarred heart
Handing me hope from our very start

Pasts to be forgotten; miss-givens
Children will always be children; sinnin’
A lover; yet, is he really the villain

Don’t make me pick
Don’t make me choose
Someone will always lose

I Love my children more than I
Their errs, I have caught & some taught
They will always hold my strings taut

That’s why I’ve not fallen; off this cliff
25 yrs; some, for sure, farthest from bliss!
Yet, my very first; number one, be’love’d kiss

Believe, I will always love thee; three

To Dust

Knowing what’s right & worthy of being wrought
She’s found her courage in writing a lot
Scribing answers to questions; she knows not

Added vowels, commas, & whatnots
Incomplete sentences; trailing off…
Words showing lessons; trying to be taught

Into her cave she crawled w/her pen
No ink, scrawling by the blood of her veins
She dances the fine line of becoming insane

Her pen had bled her heart
Pages ruptured into flames
Ashes are all that’s left to remain


She keeps her darkest secrets
Hidden in her cedar chest
Resting at the end of her bed

Longingly she wishes to escape
The horrors that she keeps, too, safe
Never wanting them in the first place

Needing a partner to figure her mess?
That just adds tension and stress!
Not knowing what the other expects

Over-flowing; her chest unlatches
Memories of the unwanted; haunted
A place where she’s never been wanted

She just wants to lay them to rest
Make them stop bantering in her head
Instead let them go to sleep or become dead

Why at 45 do they still haunt me instead?

XXX Her Strung Pearls XXX

XXX is as it means. Erotica is something i dabble in as well….hope you enjoy & please don’t read if it offends….Much Love



She trailed her fingers between her bosoms
Her long strings of laced pearls; she twirls
Twisting to her reddened moistened mouth

Her tongue to give a sensual flicker of a lick
Her teeth, a decent grip between her lips
Slipping her hands lower yet

Wandering hands to cup each breast
Spinning her fingers across the tips
Nips at attention with a kiss of a gentle flick

Reaching her naval she caresses a lot
Lingering, not long; she reaches for her clit
Your pure excitement brings about a rise

You start stroking your cock; now massive size
Before you; she straddles your cock
Her pierced tits she shoves between your lips

No protest can you profess
You start to nibble & gently bite to her delight
Needing more you reach for her sweet spot

You want to feel her tight wet pussy
Her lips wrap around your shaft
Warmth rushes through your body

Her pussy so sweetly soft and tight
Not able to contain much of your delight
About to let loose she backs off & makes you stop……………to be continued

XXX Rock Bottom XXX

As the title shows “XXX” this is heavy erotica & if easily offended or not into this form of expression please DO NOT READ!!!


Much Love & Light


She falls playfully on to the bed
Her tits give a shake & jiggle
She smiles silly & laughs a little giggle

Already engorged; you encroach
You spread her eagle; totally exposed
Glistening pussy, you totally become discomposed

Your throbbing & bulging crown to shaft
Gently you penetrate her tight round dainty ass
Stroking faster; spreading her crack

She begs for more & arches her back
You thrust balls deep in her ass
She quivers a heavy sharp gasp

Grabbing the sheets
Biting the covers to muffle her moans
you’re by far the best lover; she’s had known

Rubbing her clit to each of your strokes
Shivering from her head to clit
Clenching down onto your cock she’s ready to explode

She starts climaxing on the spot
Her sweet juices flowing nonstop
Beyond your control you cum deep in her hole


Her eyes made of crystal memories
Each tear to turn a lesson taught
Each battle, alone she had fought

To seek those who once where hers
Hoping for refuge & to belong to a herd
She cried for years & one, not heard her word

Once to be found, If hated they’d just snub
Carnivorous of the meeker of ones
Sarcasm to ridicule; their language of love

Alone, once again it creeps
Into her soul, stealing all her sleep
She drugs herself to feel complete

Life long vision to be loved; it was killed
Laid to rest with all the hopes of a family crest
In the casket, they went, tears no longer wept

End of this quest; she feels defeat
Throws in her towel; sortaspeak
Knowing no family was she meant to be….

….alone for eternity

One Potato, Two Potato

My fingertips is where it starts
These words flood from my heart
The beginning to an eventual end;
We embark……

You to have over salted the soup
Drop a potato in “bloop”
Coating the stings of the lies
Mix it in; pepper will disguise

From boil to a steady simmer
From fire to a flickering flame
From crystal clarity to a dull grain
A flavor to never regain

Time to…..throw it away & start all over again!

What Is iT

I am the salty sweat of the sun’s tears
I am the droplets of the thorns plucked
I am the blood of a rose taken and cut

I am the bitterness that frost intended
I am the coldness that you’ve accepted
I am the blackness to which once you invited

I am the crux on your shoulders
I am the nagging at your sleeves
I will not leave you until, I have made you, succeed

Influence or Imitation

I see you reaching to turn the page past
I see you bequeathing a grimace
All I can do is wickedly laugh
Stop reading so much & drop your mask

Reread their poems
Re-listen to their songs
Listen to Beethoven
Keep, near, Mr. Frost

Close your eyes & recite their lines
Feel their pain at that moment in time
Call upon your muses so shy
Give you the ability to, also, touch that sky

Convey your words that swim the mind
No need to force so many of an exercise
Why torture your memories mind’s eye
Dribble from another’s demise; surprised?

Written in the sands; the hands of time
It’s not always about the rhyme but sign
Memorization nor cloth to ever make the poet
It’s what YOU make of, the most of it!

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