(Yorkshire)

What do you think this poem is about?

Picture This (Adult Nature)

My dearest darling picture this,
as we connect in utter bliss.
My hands are warm my gaze is soft.
My heart to you forever lost.
Candles burn and incense smokes.
As we begin gentle strokes.
Fully charged and face to face,
I slowly remove your gown of lace.
Our hearts they meet and our eyes they flirt.
As you undo my awkward shirt.
You place my hand,
upon your breast.
While I place yours against my chest.
Flowers sigh.
Angels weep.
Hours fly.
I fill you deep.
Breathless moans escape our lips.
Laughing eyes perform silent quips.
With quickened pace,
and flushing face.
We start to rock.
We start to roll.
We start to lose,
all control.
Neglected muscles pump and squeeze.
We deeply breath the heady breeze.
To collapse in a breathless heap.
Where mingled juices start to seep.
Limbs entwined.
Souls unfurled.
Tender kisses where your hair is twirled.
Ah to hold you in such loving ways.
Would warm my cockles,
on the coldest of all the coldest days.

Submitted: Saturday, March 16, 2013


Poet's Notes about The Poem

Apart from the occasional visit to the Lady Porcelain I have been celibate for the last five years. However having read Nymph By Pale Moonlight by Karen Sinclair I have remembered what I have been missing.

Comments about this poem (Picture This (Adult Nature) by Anthony Di'anno )

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  • Valsa George (3/23/2013 8:26:00 AM)

    An erotic experience reaching its self effacing climax is beautifully presented in powerful poetic diction! !

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  • Meena Mustafa (3/21/2013 3:26:00 PM)

    Like the way your poem rhymes :) brilliant write.

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  • Ellias Anderson (3/18/2013 9:06:00 AM)

    dear Anthony. this poem is full off love and pure emotions. so brilliant and lovely
    well done

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  • Dinesh Nair (3/17/2013 6:20:00 AM)

    The superfluous sensuality felt has its own appeal. But there is a winner in you and don`t please feel that you have the face of a loser too for you have read Nymph

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  • Udaya R. Tennakoon (3/17/2013 6:08:00 AM)

    Breathless moans escape our lips.
    Laughing eyes perform silent quips.
    With quickened pace,
    and flushing face.
    We start to rock.
    We start to roll.
    We start to lose,
    all control.

    Dear Anthony, the way of flowing the poem is I like and the vison tells more. thanks. keep it forward

    0 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
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