James McLain Poems

With each springs white top.
Shaken off by hands unseen.
Wanders by each lofty lonely face.
Places it is wind it needs to show.
...

You having
the last 'Word'
is not at issue.
It is, what you do,
...

and from behind
the full moon is.
and the struggles
make
...

Clothed In Beauty;
each chiseled branch
hangs full of fruit.
The silent observer bides
...

taboo words and such; speak fall from your lips
and silk french lacy panties there outside a face,
drive even most of us and even you, quite mad.
Do knickers look and feel the same, to they
...

i carry your heart within me) do you
within mine as well) lockets of hair
your sweet breath i smell and pulses i
feel make me flow out lets me know it's you
...

squatting at the opening of sleep
she sits
lightning to the omnibus
redcurrants
...

Approached through the bushes
under the moon.
She struggles against the tree.
Smooth it feels of latex.
Nothing but a shadow is seen.
Lips come apart.
...

If I again ride or come nigh.
Leisurely paced,
and thrust into now.
...