Ravensong Poetry And Writing Blog by Donovan Baldwin

your favorite toys

stashed with your erotica

for your private times

-----

those wonderful words

that strip away your outer garb

leaving you naked

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no single person

can catch all the love that spills from me

too much love is lonely

-----

time to time pauses

remembering the poet

who's kept her secrets

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touching an orchid

eyes and fingers follow curves

wet with loving dew

-----

herculean task

displaying feelings with words

instead of kisses

------

words took you with them

on that journey poets know

while i waited here

-----

never spoke a word

yet he screamed to her of love

from the written page

-----

while the world fails me

deep within my wicked dreams

you and i make love

-----

one treasured moment

let's look at one another

and call it foreplay

-----

she's much respected

socially acceptable

her flames well hidden

-----

you have changed my world

with real words imagined smile

yourself as you are

By Donovan Baldwin

Labels: donovan baldwin, erotica, foreplay, love, orchid, poems, poet, poetry, secrets

By Donovan Baldwin

exchanging poems
in lusty verbal foreplay...
we make poetry

-----

her subtle weapon
secret spear which pierces me...
exhausted i fall

-----

live stream the in thing
running water at sunrise...
the live stream for me

-----

artist awakens
random strokes of red and gold...
dark sky becomes dawn

-----

I write because my fingers say I must,
The burn within will lessen
Only when the energy is used
To push a pen.

Press the keys! Push on!
Let words and thoughts tumble
One over and around the other,
Like puppies playing..

This is joy, you know,
This mad rush of happy.

(Scribbled in a notebook 22 Mar 1994)

------

shade of yesterday
moving as if yet alive...
as ghost among ghosts

(Last line borrowed from "The Name of the Rose" by Umberto Eco.)

-----

I can but reflect
That which has form..
Mirror creates not
The image it reveals,
Nor echo the sound,
It reverberates, for,
Those are realities,
Echo and mirror produce
Not the thing but
Representations...
As my words
Are but shadows,
Of realities
I live.

-----

Long ago
I planted a rose,
Joseph's coat.
It marked a spot,
A memory of mine,
The corner of a fence
Where a treasure
Was once buried.
Flower now gone,
Leaving two memories
For me to hold,
The beauty of the roses,
And the meaning
Of the place it grew.

-----

Journey of
Child to man,
Up and down
The shelves of
A library, one
Book leading
To another,
From space,
To frontier,
To scene
Of the crime,
Detectives and
Cowboys and
Spacemen
Philosophizing,
Repeating
Pretty poetry,
And other
Thoughts
To fill my
Brain.

-----

head upon my chest
her slow sweet breath warming me...
stoking fires within

-----

loving simple ways
our candid intimacy...
innately casual

-----

rain falls from the sky
drops upon blackberry vines...
soon to bear their fruit

-----

delicate blossom
shyly opens to soft touch...
eyes still closed she smiles

-----
Poetry copyright 2020 by Donovan Baldwin

Labels: donovan baldwin, foreplay, haiku, lust, poems, poetry