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Feb. 10th, 2002
And another erotic poem
Feb. 10th, 2002 12:21 amStorm Waves
Salt and cold, the water comes,
Waves crashing, breaking against the rock.
Playful and fierce, it douses the two,
The lovers who came to watch the view.
Shaking, laughing, they seek the warm
Sheltered home against the sea.
Dripping wet, streaming water drops,
A path from door to refuge dear.
Wet clothes peeled from bodies warm,
Soft towels against the skin.
Playful touches against the other,
Seeking touch, of a lover dear.
Eyes aglow, they come close, they kiss,
Seeking yet another warmth.
Playfully, they touch, they nip,
Exploring each the others selves.
With holding hands and loving hearts,
They bring each other to their bed.
Soft and warm against their skin,
Wrapping them safe and well against the storm.
Trailing the salt, kisses down her front,
Salt water on the nipple, growing under lips.
Down further, she sighs against his touch,
Salt-sweet petals, unfolding and damp.
She closes her eyes, as he seeks within,
Her inner ocean sending it's waves.
Rain on the window, like the drops of her dew,
Like lightning, her release unfolds.
He comes up, face damp with her passion,
She kisses him, catlike, cleaning his cheek.
A move under, to take, enfold,
As she draws him into her sea.
He looks at her, enjoying her feel,
Silk-soft and slick around blood-warm and hard.
They grasp, and hold, letting their storm build,
Crashing it's waves against the soul.
The storm lessens, gentle and soft,
They nuzzle, draw closer and hold.
Still connected, intertwined,
Whispered love as they drift towards sleep.
Copyright 1/18/00
- Patrick McKinnion
Salt and cold, the water comes,
Waves crashing, breaking against the rock.
Playful and fierce, it douses the two,
The lovers who came to watch the view.
Shaking, laughing, they seek the warm
Sheltered home against the sea.
Dripping wet, streaming water drops,
A path from door to refuge dear.
Wet clothes peeled from bodies warm,
Soft towels against the skin.
Playful touches against the other,
Seeking touch, of a lover dear.
Eyes aglow, they come close, they kiss,
Seeking yet another warmth.
Playfully, they touch, they nip,
Exploring each the others selves.
With holding hands and loving hearts,
They bring each other to their bed.
Soft and warm against their skin,
Wrapping them safe and well against the storm.
Trailing the salt, kisses down her front,
Salt water on the nipple, growing under lips.
Down further, she sighs against his touch,
Salt-sweet petals, unfolding and damp.
She closes her eyes, as he seeks within,
Her inner ocean sending it's waves.
Rain on the window, like the drops of her dew,
Like lightning, her release unfolds.
He comes up, face damp with her passion,
She kisses him, catlike, cleaning his cheek.
A move under, to take, enfold,
As she draws him into her sea.
He looks at her, enjoying her feel,
Silk-soft and slick around blood-warm and hard.
They grasp, and hold, letting their storm build,
Crashing it's waves against the soul.
The storm lessens, gentle and soft,
They nuzzle, draw closer and hold.
Still connected, intertwined,
Whispered love as they drift towards sleep.
Copyright 1/18/00
- Patrick McKinnion
And another erotic poem
Feb. 10th, 2002 12:21 amStorm Waves
Salt and cold, the water comes,
Waves crashing, breaking against the rock.
Playful and fierce, it douses the two,
The lovers who came to watch the view.
Shaking, laughing, they seek the warm
Sheltered home against the sea.
Dripping wet, streaming water drops,
A path from door to refuge dear.
Wet clothes peeled from bodies warm,
Soft towels against the skin.
Playful touches against the other,
Seeking touch, of a lover dear.
Eyes aglow, they come close, they kiss,
Seeking yet another warmth.
Playfully, they touch, they nip,
Exploring each the others selves.
With holding hands and loving hearts,
They bring each other to their bed.
Soft and warm against their skin,
Wrapping them safe and well against the storm.
Trailing the salt, kisses down her front,
Salt water on the nipple, growing under lips.
Down further, she sighs against his touch,
Salt-sweet petals, unfolding and damp.
She closes her eyes, as he seeks within,
Her inner ocean sending it's waves.
Rain on the window, like the drops of her dew,
Like lightning, her release unfolds.
He comes up, face damp with her passion,
She kisses him, catlike, cleaning his cheek.
A move under, to take, enfold,
As she draws him into her sea.
He looks at her, enjoying her feel,
Silk-soft and slick around blood-warm and hard.
They grasp, and hold, letting their storm build,
Crashing it's waves against the soul.
The storm lessens, gentle and soft,
They nuzzle, draw closer and hold.
Still connected, intertwined,
Whispered love as they drift towards sleep.
Copyright 1/18/00
- Patrick McKinnion
Salt and cold, the water comes,
Waves crashing, breaking against the rock.
Playful and fierce, it douses the two,
The lovers who came to watch the view.
Shaking, laughing, they seek the warm
Sheltered home against the sea.
Dripping wet, streaming water drops,
A path from door to refuge dear.
Wet clothes peeled from bodies warm,
Soft towels against the skin.
Playful touches against the other,
Seeking touch, of a lover dear.
Eyes aglow, they come close, they kiss,
Seeking yet another warmth.
Playfully, they touch, they nip,
Exploring each the others selves.
With holding hands and loving hearts,
They bring each other to their bed.
Soft and warm against their skin,
Wrapping them safe and well against the storm.
Trailing the salt, kisses down her front,
Salt water on the nipple, growing under lips.
Down further, she sighs against his touch,
Salt-sweet petals, unfolding and damp.
She closes her eyes, as he seeks within,
Her inner ocean sending it's waves.
Rain on the window, like the drops of her dew,
Like lightning, her release unfolds.
He comes up, face damp with her passion,
She kisses him, catlike, cleaning his cheek.
A move under, to take, enfold,
As she draws him into her sea.
He looks at her, enjoying her feel,
Silk-soft and slick around blood-warm and hard.
They grasp, and hold, letting their storm build,
Crashing it's waves against the soul.
The storm lessens, gentle and soft,
They nuzzle, draw closer and hold.
Still connected, intertwined,
Whispered love as they drift towards sleep.
Copyright 1/18/00
- Patrick McKinnion