Eternal Poem by Bill Smith


Rating: 2.8

Faded beauty
Cuts unkind
Into the memory
Of the mirrors in the mind
Arthritic fingers
Trace the curves he loved
Soft to the touch
When felt with velvet glove
Comforting hum
In the silence of the night
Looks to his picture
Rose tinted lamplight
Guilty is the pleasure
Ann Summers bought
What would the kids think?
A moment’s pleasure sought
Warm glow shiver
Brings a smile to her face
Looks to his picture
Finger strokes his face
A gentle sigh of loving
Ceiling eyes turned
She remembers the last time
In passions fires they burned
Pretty as his picture
She turns him to the wall
Love at first sight
She ran into the fall
Says a silent sorry
But a woman has her needs
Plastic and rubber
Her desire the warrior feeds
No other man shared her
Not since that fateful day
On a foreign field
They took his life away
Remembering his touch
Joyous was his kiss
Gentle in his loving
Arms locked in bliss
Gentle hum brings pleasure
Forgets her aching bones
Eyes close to hear him
Voiced in husky tones
She drifts into the memory
His body young and firm
She a virgin bride
Eager to learn,
She’d let him undress her
Her naked skin revealed
As each silken layer
Of clothes were slowly peeled
His gasp of delight
As her breasts tumbled free
Like a child in a sweet shop
“Are these all for me”?
Picked up with ease
A feather in his arms
Kissed her lips with tenderness
Rapt by her charms
Lay her on the bed
Undressed with passions haste
Lay down beside her
With fingertips he traced
Every curve and crevice
Of her bodies perfect form
She remembers the rise between them
The calm before the storm
Fingers circle nipples
Where once his lips had kissed
The softest kiss from heaven
Oh how she missed those lips
Remembers the tentative reaching
His erection in her grasp
The thought of it inside her
Elicited a gasp
A finger turn more pressure
For the humming in the night
Recalls the first time
His fingers probed delight
His feather kiss across her lips
His tongue around her own
The moment of entry
The softly whispered groan
The gentle easy rhythm
The breathing in the night
The way his sweat glistened
In the glow of full moonlight
His cries of expectation
Drowned by her screams
As the floodgates of passion
Made reality of her dreams

But now she lay alone
With the hum in the night
Recalling a love eternal
The glow of full moonlight

L. K. Thayer 09 January 2008

so tactile and visual in depth.

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I love the volleying back of pleasure and pain, Bill....much like it is in life. That your rhyme is not terse and tight...adds to the artistry of this's more natural with, perhaps, the rhythm of your heartbeat. Nice job. Welcome to PH...and don't take the forum too seriously. It's a playground...nothing more.

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Jerry Hughes 18 December 2005

that, dear Bill, is what it is all about. Passion and pain. Wonderfully well written...

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