Ravensong Poetry And Writing Blog by Donovan Baldwin

By Donovan Baldwin

some poems aren't words
but sighs or gasps moans or looks...
spoken by lovers

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sweet innocence
submitting to our bold desires
two carnal lovers

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breathless with desire
roused by his heated touch
proud turgid tautness

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her hidden dagger
rising at his intrusion
is drawn from its sheathe

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bored she chose to do
something more exciting so...
she played with her toys

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cast raiment aside
society's requirements...
dance naked for me

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two piece pajamas
top for you bottom for me...
on the bedroom floor

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a bedtime story
to relax or stimulate
which one tonight dear

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love's a liquid thing
flowing waters of desire
demanding release

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my mystic writings
my magical poetry
my raison d'être

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Poetry copyright 2020 by Donovan Baldwin
Art: Psyche Revived by Cupid's Kiss (1793) by Antonio Canova

Labels: bedroom floor, Cupid, dance naked, donovan baldwin, Eros, lovers, magical, mystical, poems, poetry, Psyche, toys

BY Donovan Baldwin

passion is normal
why deny yourself pleasure
more intense when shared

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tulips and roses
orchids and azaleas
pale before your bloom

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make no promises
words wander off in the wind
place love in my hands

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flicking of your tongue
impish smile behind the peach
juice drips down your chin

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no perfect body
yet a soul that matches mine
just so perfectly

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panting grasping lips
tongues in breathless game of tag
stirring love's cocktail

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you rise over me
transcendent smile of pleasure
as ecstasy comes

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psyche viewed eros
loved her lover more in light
yet nearly lost love

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her soft rose buds swell
awakened by lover's touch
and gentle kisses

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reach to me your hand
hold mine on this moonlit path
where we lovers stroll

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It was in the 30's,
I was told as a boy,
A barge ran aground
In a storm.
I swam there,
Snorkeled,
The sand was black
And spongy from the oil,
Twenty years later.
Huge cables appeared and
Disappeared with
Tide and storm,
Arising before my mask,
Ghostly figure from the past.

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caressing your curves
the story of the woman
quietly seduced

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our bold nakedness
the courage to bare ourselves
for love must know all

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Words, those damned elusive things,
Never there when you need them.
The secret is to sneak up on them,
Begin using them without permission.
They, after all, are your creatures,
Bound to do your bidding,
Without question or objection,
So, make them understand,
You will use them as you will,
Even when they're not ready to play.

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I, my own Prometheus,
Torn by my own demons,
Harpies, devils, carrion birds,
Uncertainty and fate,
Tearing at my breast,
Ripping out the heart
That once beat for adventure,
Travel, and investigation,
Of the lovely little corners,
Of mortals, to whom
I sought to give fire.

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i write my desires
fingers on your tender skin
aflame with your heat

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yes i say i lust
love and lust so very close
each feeds the other

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body my temple
adoration all aspects
love the highest form

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Poetry Copyright March 2020 By Donovan Baldwin

Art: The Embrace (1917) by Egon Schiele

Labels: Eros, flicking tongue, haiku, kisses, passion, poems, poetry, Prometheus, Psyche, roses, tulips