Friday, 29 September 2017

plump softness


 when thirst to drink off petals delicate
sweet and in full bloom 
invade a restless mind
the need to savour the plump softness...
RB. 
 

rose


...rose...

RB.



his world to fire


there be no need for sleaze

to please

a mans desire

his world to fire

to take

and break

his world to shake

a subtle hint

a naughty glint

the spread of legs

attention begs

a nipple hard

restraint discard.

...

there be a need to find

and bind

each others lust

a sensual trust

together ride

no need to hide.

RB.
 

a hint of light

... a hint of light.

Wednesday, 27 September 2017

my need to know...yours to let me


what pleasure to lean forward and delve through the shadows of your mind
what pleasure to find an uncertain burning passion
a sensual u, waiting to be coaxed from hiding.
your hesitancy so appealing
your belief and trust obvious in your pleading gaze
that i shall be gentle and understanding of your uncertainty 
that i will know how to bring down those walls with persuasive understanding
allowing u a gradual courage to gaze upon the glory of your sexual sensuality.
my eyes will tell a story of my yearning to wish u into my space
where your need to expand and grow and reach
higher and higher..
a yelp escaping for the intensity
and vibration of every nerve ending tingling under your flesh
is unbearable yet welcomed.
i shall cradle your desire with much of mine
where we shall meet in ecstatic seduction
to revel in the luscious wetness of lovers eating
upon each others wetness and surrender of self.
u will arch and beg me and plead for release
your mind will drop and get lost in pools of wanton lust
and then resurface grasping to hold on to the reality of this world
and wish itself back again
under the spell
of
me and u.
further in...i shall lean
and learn and teach myself
what more i can do
to know your mind...my need to know.

RB.
 


Tuesday, 26 September 2017

peering through the veneer


exposed
uninhibited
a nakedness of choice
no thought reserved
no thought at all...
an openness of comfort with self and surrounding
no desire to care about the potential of construed wrong thought
sensuality knows no bounds to expression
but does know with subtleness to rein in sexuality 
for it cares to keep it under wraps...peering through the veneer of an erotic demeanor.

RB. 
 

Monday, 25 September 2017

thoughts telling


 how delicious thoughts can run
unwrapped 
on the precipice of exposing all that churns within.
a softness of thought
a passion searing hot
a soulful cry for a lover who knows to pamper and caress.
curves hungering for a never ending travel of fingers... wanting.
a hand...a palm pressed firm, cupping a 'womaness'
feeling its sweet need to surrender.
a pulsating heart
blood rushing to the brain
the need to lay
and allow...

how delicious thoughts can run
a faintness
a headiness
a desire so luscious 
a spreading of limbs...delicious be surrender.

RB.




heightened senses



what be the purpose of holding back?
those desires that burn deep and seek refuge in the welcome of another's touch
what be the purpose of holding back?
when the skin knows to tingle under a sensual hand.
when sense be heightened by the nearness of another
a slow release of breath
a downcast gaze..

what be the purpose of holding back?
 
RB. 
 

choices of the hardest kind


Often in life, one is asked to make choices of the hardest kind. Choices that are conundrums that will haunt one in memory, for the choice one may have to make is never a certain one but, rather, one of faith and belief and hope that it be the right one.
When crossroads are reached and looking back can only be miserable for the path leading up to that point is not one due to hardships or challenges, rather, a journey travelled of self discovery and realising the potential of what the unknown held. All of a sudden a set of wings  achieved, giving flight to the self, a realisation of what could have been but too late.
A comfortable niche achieved over many years, a settling for what one may have thought to be the best it could have been...now uprooted and hazed by a discovery of the innermost self.
....how to tally the new self with the old...that be the conundrum...that be the trick.
That be the ability to go forth and succeed and make ones life even more magic for that is what the new self has discovered...

A happy new start to the week to all!

RB.



Saturday, 23 September 2017

is touch too telling for u?


((Jennifer Beals)
How touch knows to feed the Soul. It can speak of desire. It can speak of anger....telling be a taut body or a yielding one...a hesitant heart assured when a gentle brush, a persuasive nudge, a rested calm hand settles those uncertainties.

The human flesh, the most marvellous creation of all time...nerve endings in their gazillion...oh...i know...total dramatisation but...it is so, and feels so, for those who are carefree of nature, allowing their innate ability to  be receptive and roam, seeking touch.

How alive we know to be, understanding the wellness of touch, understanding the ripple effects of being starved of closeness or abusive heaviness of hand...?
How can a key board the creator of emails, messages of all sorts via mobile etc....replace fingertips finding each other.
When words have no meaning for they know not to translate interaction through touch.
Eyes shut...all senses alive through touch...the awakening deep within of a happiness, maybe a nostalgic pang of longing...a reminder of what it means to be human. An aspiration to surrender of the most intimate sort... replaced by an ever building of high walls and hiding from the humaneness of self....typing away into the ether of nothingness...


(internet)
and thus...

"come eat me with your touch
come awaken the depths of my humanity with your touch
feed me at the same time with the telling of your hands,
don't speak with words
just tell me... with your touch... what be your desire.
tell me how u long for me to yield
to the passion
the energy
that is your life,
a story told
in your reaching out
and inviting me into u
with

your touch.

i want to know u
i want to be brave and surrender
and envelope myself in who u may be

so

let us be brave together and let go

and simply indulge in what we were born to do...

'touch'."

RB.


Friday, 22 September 2017

a sweet scent


i shall lean forward and inhale the sweet scent of a rose.
it shall permeate my senses and take me back
to an imagined moment,
when your hand travelled  to the nape of my neck
and coaxed me gently toward your warm lips. 
your eyes were like melting lava
burning mine as u invited me into your surrender.
i wanted to be seared by your 
desire to envelope me into u.
a vulnerability glimpsed 
tasted
as our kiss 
became melting
sweet
slow
yielding...
your ability to let go and let me know
you want me to bring out that side of u that needs
my touch
soft
gently passionate
telling of me.
courageously to move toward a state
of naked indulgence
of bodies 
clinging
writhing
loving...

how the sweet scent of a rose knows to make me yearn...

my imaginary lover.

RB.



a weekend call


He wondered what the weekend would bring, feeling the need to be embraced completely into the sensual being of another. His thoughts captivated by erotic yearnings burning, throbbing.
How he longed to let go and allow the curves and mounds of a woman to tempt him into surrender.
How he wished to be led and shown what seductive softness can do to a mans sanity when it is within arms reach...being able to feast upon it with leisure
first by gazing upon its reveal
second by inhaling the musky scent
third by gently touching, exploring
kiss upon kiss...lips yielding....a longing telling of mutual want.
how he looked and searched to bring into realisation a weekend so desperately needed to satiate his hungry spirit.
she waited, as if knowing the call would come...hers was a hunger of needing to give of herself.
 
RB.



Thursday, 21 September 2017

if i were a bird


if i were a bird 

perched,

 showing my fine feathers proud

my neck would crane my head be slightly bowed.

 

a little aloof

yet,

 welcoming your attention

of any will not to be drawn into my display, a suspension.

 

to flirt with your sight be my desire

coquettish and naughty this 'birds' attire

and once our eyes eventually meet

with passionate yearnings each other they would greet.

 

RB.

 


come...take me by the hand



come.

take me by the hand
and let me dance upon your thoughts
let me seduce u with my womanly ways
i shall hold u near, ever so gently
and allow u to feel the lightness of step of my happy heart,
it shall be the rhythm to which my arms shall embrace
my lips shall kiss
my body shall mould.



come.

be one with me in thought
do travel beyond the realms of what we may know
let us explore further than that which we were made to believe.



come.

imagine our bodies know to feed
off desires satiated in each others company...
i shall bend
i shall allow
i shall moan and devour
every part of u shared in your giving
and surrender to me.


and... in that moment of surrender
the realisation of who you truly are
shall dawn upon you
and you will know your own sensuality forever.


come.

find yourself and let me...

...get lost in you.

RB.





Wednesday, 20 September 2017

a bow discarded


 if i should have a bow
would i look to bind u?
bind u in such a way to make u mine.
bind u physically.

or...

would  i put that bow aside
and rather bind your mind
with imaginings of what could be.

and thus...

 the bow i have, i choose to put aside 

and rather

bind you with what your eyes may see

...me.

...for now. (wink) 


RB.



Tuesday, 19 September 2017

a fantasy wished into reality


i wished myself into a world of make believe
where, that evening, a fantasy was my reality.
i wished myself into a world of art
the ever ardent onlooking fan
yearning to absorb and swallow deep within,
 that which
i would never be able to perform 
but
could make mine...
through sincere
appreciation, affirmation, acknowledgement .



a fantasy?...oh yes...how i wished to be the ballerina
so elegant and expressive
so lost in the music of composers from time long ago
classical pieces of notes weaving through the auditorium
 violins strings...my favourite.
and by the end of the evening there was no need to wish myself into a world of make believe 
for
the reality played itself out on the stage
and 
i was one... with the ballerina.

RB.



bewitched by the Prima Ballerina


 she held me captive the minute she appeared on the stage
i found myself lost in Tchaikovsky's vision through the notes of the orchestra
how her commitment shook me to the core of my being
the expression of elegant art
...the Prima Ballerina.

 her bows and acknowledgement of us, the spectators
even then, her desire to exude her profession
her love of the beauty of giving of herself in steps perfectly, painfully, delicately balleted
...the Prima Ballerina.

 oh! the elegance of those arms
those hands expressive to the very tips of her nails
her neck craned like the true swan she portrayed
...the Prima Ballerina.

 I had lost myself in her expressions her drawing in of me
and her supportive cast allowed her to shine
and she did...

the Prima Ballerina.

RB.



what lies beneath...he asked


 why do u watch me from a distance?...she asked of him...do u care not to come closer?...am i too aloof in my posture?...are u not tempted to feel the warmth of my nakedness?
red be my favourite colour dear Lady...he answered...and all i am doing is admiring how it sits perfect on your hips...those heels...would u allow me to take them off?... and run my hands up the length of your leg?...can i pull on the bow of that red little number so titillating and casual round your hips?..
may i ask? he said...
yes?...what would u like to ask...she said
...what lies beneath that drape of red...?
aaah sweet gorgeous man...why not step forward and find out for yourself...i am sure u shall like..

RB.



a crumpled sheets secret

who cares as father time tick tocks away and the sun had risen and now is on its journey west, setting , far on the horizon. my t...