To the Ladies!
Devotions on a Silken Plain
She moves, limed in sweat shine under the silver light of the moon,
in her rhythmic devotions to the ever eternal Goddess of Love.
Fierce as a leopard, yet delicate as the smallest dove,
she encompasses the span of human need, burning again, all too soon.
Soul fire dances along the edges of oh so sensitive nerves,
and she shivers at the return touch of another’s need.
Demanding her moment, writhing like a storm tossed reed,
until she tumbles over the edge of the inner abyss in sudden curves.
Her cry is so like the cry of a lost soul, yet too, it holds joy she’ll keep,
as she harvests the moments like golden treasures to lay away.
Her devotions over, she falls back to another reality, mortal clay,
and holding onto the wonders she has collected, she fades into sleep.
I hold her close, and let the moments passed, wring her empty of stress,
watching her slip into sleep, that gentle smile on her lovely face.
I smile too, for I love the way she looks in such delicate wisps of lace,
at peace, at rest, at least until we must rise and finally have to dress.
Devotions on a Silken Plain
Well, you steam up the Lair at supper time, then post a recipe for steak! Hilarious.
Love both of the posts.