The Sun Entering The Bedroom

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The sun entering the bedroom
She tasted like natural ginger root
Satisfied before she began her day
A short skirt & high heeled boots

A perfect way to leave her
A lovely morning with such a sight
I watched her until I couldn’t see
Everyone should be so lucky at first light

Erratic Rumblings First Thing In The Morning

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Erratic rumblings first thing in the morning
Thoughts all aglow from castiron candlesticks
Sunrise hasn’t interrupted my intercession
Another cup of coffee might ease my ticks

After watching too many hectic movie scenes
A set of expectations upon our furrowed brow
But I need to recede into my own soul
Let us return to existing in the here & now

You’re happiest when spooning a salted bourbon
& I’m certainly not one to overtly judge
But I’m at a crossroads in this life
From that woman; my heart defiantly won’t budge

Another Tepid Morning, Waiting Silently

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Another tepid morning, waiting silently
Dawn yet to break, but my head feels that way
These dog days lapse like a bit of purgatory
Standing before St. Patrick with nothing to say

Teetering & more than slightly confused
Checking my watch; praying its not too late
Did my heart stop? How did I go so astray
Jolted back- the Almighty’s nectar begins to percolate

Counting Out The Steps

Counting out the steps
Crawling on all fours
One, two three, one two, three
You deny the circus, but they’re really yours

Giving her another twirl
We’re standing naked & stark
You speak your pretentious slang
Only exposed in the dark

I’m here with your midnight medicine
My beautiful babe, bottoms up!
But I remain steadfast
Watching you spill out of your lace cups

Vibrations Coursing Through Your Corset

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Vibrations coursing through your corset
Am I still making you nervous, my dear
Does your heart beat louder in that chest
Whenever I come near

Walk slowly across the room to me
Let me watch your beauty in motion
The deliberate steps in those heels
Your passion overtaking the ocean

Admiring the view of your new tights
You spoil me something mighty, Miss
My love has never been more obvious
I’ll explain it all through this kiss

Touched By The Whim Of God

Touched by the whim of God
Revolutions in the unlikeliest of places
Tasting the perfect tilt to her hips
My benign lunacy comes in traces

Diluted measurements by midmorning
With inconvenient virtues & unholy glee
Bringing small obsessions in my mind
When the local widows invite me for tea

Entering only after a courteous introduction
No need to intrude on our nebulous beliefs
A shared sacrilege when I watch her curtsey
Dropping to our knees; praying for some relief

An Innocent Looking Soul

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An innocent looking soul
Draped with an ethereal gown
Confident strides across the patio
With Eve’s revenge
Crisp air – like the first bite of a green apple
Obscured; knowing her nectar to be my cure

I watch her bosom swell
It’s not objectivization
For I worship her
Refreshed in waves
This transparent Victorian hypocrisy
Knowing all that ails
& an unseen wound

Yet morning crests
Pale orange sky forces it’s way through space
In the arms of naked trees
I’m celebrating femininity
Spring’s arrival in a sundress
As she teases me with breathless recitals
Our love not by design
But still goes well with NorCal wine

Maybe The Morning

Maybe the morning
Doesn’t; it just doesn’t have to be
You rise a little softer on that day
Emerging from a cocoon for me to see
Winter blankets fall away like nebulae
Taller than is expected from a Belle
Not so confident at first light
The arching sun; the pillory of hell
Stretching in my threadbare shirt
A shake of your hips
When first the brew hits your lips
But I want to watch
As you take another vainglorious sip

The Warmth Of The First Coast Has Returned

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The warmth of the First Coast has returned

But the ocean haze is beating out the sunshine

Sitting on the boardwalk, cold drink in my hand

My love reading me the pages of ‘Dandelion Wine’

Summer hasn’t arrived with its full force

In the breeze, the air cool, yet warm for March

Sideways glances, thinking of her last night

Her beauty mine to behold, her back perfectly arched

Watching children playing in the surf

These quiet beaches surrounded by thick mangroves

A wilderness of paradise’s perfect setting

Your whole life waiting for such an idyllic trove

Where there’s no concern for silly tan lines

The sunshine kissing our bodies like a magic wand

Getting lost, leaving unmentionables on the line

Removed from sight, her underbrush covered by palm fronds

It’s different once your cross into the sand 

Slow your mind, pour a frozen drink & a slice of Key Lime

Colors, flavors & appetites are all enhanced down here

Mother Nature’s sun, precise remedy for the Wintertime

Image by Paul Brennan from Pixabay

Watching Them March You Down The Hall

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Watching them march you down the hall
Empty auditoriums to drown out your words
Writing out rants my mouth will never recite
The world run not by the cool but angry nerds

Step away and log out of their data systems
We’ll send out love & peace in serial form
Never trusted anyone with such confidence
We’ll burn their egos to keep us warm

Returning To Simplicity

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Returning to simplicity
Tossing out these fledgling fates
Stunted growth increasing these days
Hindered by our technological rates
I don’t want to watch my soul wilt
I want to break free & soak up the sunshine
I’m through with this culture of victims
You’ll hear the dial tone & know its mine

Tonight We’re Going To Step On Out

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Tonight we’re going to step on out

Letting the cool breeze touch our souls

Watching the darkness quietly creep in

Holding hands as we take gentle pulls

The whiskey settles into a familiar burn

Nothing remaining but what we are

Excluding the day’s negative traits

Naturally only wearing the glow from the stars

 

I’m Not Good At Keeping Secrets

I’m not good at keeping secrets
My face said all that needed to be said
I’m judging all the stupid people
I refuse to be soft & cuddly instead

We have too many selfish people
In a time of catastrophe worldwide
Worried about their own cabin fever
Not the repercussions of this time & tide

I called you a fucking moron
But you said I was a little vague
You’re commingling with society
In the midst this Nebonic Plague

I’m from the Fred Durst part of Florida
Not known by the likes of Joe Exotic
& the ignorant coeds on Spring break
Licking doorknobs or whatever they find erotic

I’m on lockdown, cautiously watching the news
Florida’s redneck population can be embarrassing
I’m peeking out from between my fingers
But you still won’t find me watching the Tiger King

Image by Pierre-Laurent Durantin from Pixabay 

I’m Getting Old

OMG! I’m getting old
I’m actively searching
For the edited version
Methodically perching
Watching their content
Preserving young minds
Cultivating the innocence
For you can never rewind