Purple's Platitudes

nothing but words …


12 June 2015


absentmindedly, she

runs fingers through hair, unaware

I seethe with jealousy,

wishing mine were hers, there.


across her lips, I admit,

my thoughts have strayed, ill behaved,

with hunger, bit, a gentle lick,

she knows not how I crave.


The way she moves, I cannot prove,

but I suspect her intent,

nothing new, she always knew

exactly what she meant.


if skin to skin, I’d begin

and never cease in pleasing,

such joyful sin, again, again,

I’d repay for all her teasing.


12 June, 2015 Posted by | Poetry | | Leave a comment


12 June 2015


The gentlest flower

can coax the hardest stone to move

when it’s reaching for the sun.


A heart, needs only yearn.


12 June, 2015 Posted by | Poetry | | 1 Comment