Was our secret love as special as it seems
Or were our liaisons
only in my dreams
Am I remembering those
nights clearly
When your heartbeat
only for me
And we satisfied all
of our passions
In all their varied
forms and fashions
Could it be our
exertions were a fallacy?
Our sexual gymnastics
just a fantasy
Were those sensual
hours spent with you?
Satisfyingly slutty
Down on her knees,
Dressed in black silk
Eager to please
Tempting and toying
The teasing bitch
Bringing me to the point
When I twitch
Then as her efforts
On me increase
I explode it that
Sweet moment of release
Cool silk against my hand
Soft skin beneath my palm
Fingers searching,
exploring
Seeking out the source
Of sensual oils
She had secretly
secreted
Fingertips touch
waiting lips
Then enter to sweet
labial bliss
And with deft
manipulation
Of centres of erotic
pleasure
I feel her body tremor
And but a heartbeat
beyond
That primeval shudder
In hurried lack of
ceremony
She bid me quickly
enter
Steve Danone hated office parties, but at Cooper, Brandon and Holland Accountants in Shallowfield, it was an annual ritual that apparently had to be endured.
The reason he didn’t like them was
that all the really nice girls turned out to have no taste in men whatsoever,
the plain homely looking ones turned out to be total sluts, the friendly ones
got all bitter and depressed and the outgoing bubbly ones just got falling down
drunk.
And it was worse that year in
particular because there was one girl that he particularly fancied, Carol Herd, and
he really didn’t want to see what became of her after a few drinks so he went
across the street to the Plough for a couple of hours and when he returned the
party was over.
There were one or two revellers remaining,
a middle-aged man called David was unconscious at his desk, a girl called Ellie
from accounts was throwing up in her waste bin and a plain looking woman from
legal called Dorcas was spread-eagled across the conference room table singing
“O Holy Night”.
And the only thing about the scene
that surprised him was that she was the senior partner.
“Same old, same old” he said as he returned
to his office where he found Carol Herd
sitting in his leather chair behind his desk.
“I think you are in the wrong office,”
he said thinking she was drunk but she stood up and walked towards him
“Oh I don’t believe I am” she said,
stone cold sober “Especially now that you’ve finally got here”
I stole a glance at you
Lustfully larcenous
More than one in fact
I was a repeat
offender
A serial gazer
In perpetual regard
Loitering with intent
to stare
In open mouthed
infatuation
And you caught me
Apprehended me in the
act
Of elicit observation
Your arresting look
Took custody of me
A petty felon
With prior form
And with merciless
intent
You stole my heart
Without hesitation
No mere act of petty
larceny
You took it from me
And at once captivated
me
Imprisoned me
Behind the bars of
love
Once in your
possession
It became valueless
Scornfully regarded
You keep it under
glass
On display
Where you can watch it
beat
Or by capricious whim
Play with it
Like a cat plays with
a mouse
While I die by inches
Knowing you have my
heart
But not one of your
own
So sits a prisoner of
love
In sight of death row
Indefinitely
incarcerated
Behind the bars of love
No hope of parole
At lanes end
The rustic stile
Stands sentinel still
Marking that special
place
Where the fates
conspired
Our souls should meet
Though we purposely
Trod opposing paths
We met at that rustic
spot
And to help you cross
I took your hand
Small and silken soft
Guiding you safe to my
side
And despite the
presence
Of each others
companions
We were to all intents
Quite alone
And in those moments
When hand touched hand
We at once beheld
Our lives from that point
on
Would be forever
altered
And were content
With that destiny
At lanes end
The rustic stile
Stands like a monument
Marking the place of
alteration
A significant place
A spiritual place oft
revisited
And on such sojourns
We would find renewal
As the energizing
memory
Of that special moment
Assailed our senses
Essentially
invigorating
Like imbibing the
waters
From the fountain of
youth
And our hearts would
once again
Resound with
joyousness
And sweet moments of
romance
Those excited tingles
Of loves first passion
When hearts beat
faster
And desire courses
Through every fibre
The thrill of
blossoming love
Adding to the strata
Of our love laid down
Through all our years
By returning to the
place
Of loves wondrous
inception
We keep our love alive
And in equal measure
Love returns the
favour
All of my life
I have had no talent
Hidden or on show
No gift or endowment
No skill or mastery
No bent or flair
Ability or forte
Nothing to mark me out
From the common herd
Or stand me out from the crowd
All of my life
I have been ordinary
Mediocre and average
Quite mundane and
everyday
No hint of genius
Expert only in my
ordinariness
But content in my mediocrity
All of my life
I have been un-ambitious
No goals to be
achieved
Not driven by desire
In any shape or form
Some might say
shiftless
I would say satisfied
Happy with my lot
All of my life
I lived a half life
Until my outlook
changed
When I saw you smile
And heard you speak my
name
I was born again
With new purpose
A new vocation
To shed my mediocrity
And cast it aside
Like a well used coat
And dig deep within
myself
To find that dying
ember of desire
That almost
imperceptible spark
So clearly visible to
you
And breathe life into
it
Until white hot
And then fan the
flames of passion
You have ignited in me
All the rest of my
life
Endowed with your gift
I will feel
extraordinary
And with my new found
ambition
My one and only goal
The soul purpose of my
being
Is to make you truly
happy
As happy as you have
made me
And with all my heart
and soul
I will dedicate myself
To always loving you
