More Yes Please 47bc Poem by Terry Collett

Marcus has gone, off
on some campaign
on Caesar's orders,
Annona is glad,
the bed has more space,
his smell of wine
and sweat and maleness
has left with him.

The bedding is fresh,
where he once lay his head
Amy lies now, her smaller
frame occupies his space,
her eyes gazing at Annona
sensing Annona's hands
feel along her tender thigh.

Not in her own lonely bed
now, but here in her mistress's
bed, here with warmth and
love and holds and kisses.

Annona senses Amy's breath
as she draws near, warm and
fresh not of wine or staleness,
she feels along Amy's flesh,
her fingertips smoothing as
she goes, kisses the lips and
cheeks and neck and downward
moves in slow passion, lips
planting kisses as she goes.

Amy kisses the head, the two
shoulders, the breasts, feeling
a deep openness and entering
a thousand dreams explode
and flash, and words reduced
to ahh and oohs into the night.

Marcus had gone to his war,
Annona lies in Amy's arms,
feeling the safety of a lover's
hold, knowing the risk if sounds
are heard or someone comes
and sees their love or kisses
touched, but there she lies as
ship in harbour, resting after a
sexual journey through rough
seas and knowing Amy's thinking
as does she: more more, yes please.