Category Archives: poems about love

The lonely man

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Having made the decision to dismiss all things related to jiggling passion and doe-eyed romance, she hypnotised her libido into an indifferent torpor.

Months stretched peacefully into years, before a lonely man with physical allure, but dull conversation, approached with an inviting smile, injecting a rippling frisson beneath dry skin;
a tiny itch like the tail of a sting.

The eyes of the lonely man dove deep into the core of her, and with a finger, tickled unwilling, damp fantasies.

His hand(as if by accident), brushed lightly against her thigh, pressing lascivious ideas into wakening flesh.

As weeks went by, each accidental meeting added heat to her unwanted, wanton desire for the relief which he was longing to give.

And he, hungry for love, pitching for her heart, her soul, continued in the only way he knew,
until she, weakened by the ache, gave him the treat of no more than her body.

It would not be true to say she had no heart, for in the moist heat before he undid her buttons and zips, her heart froze at the knowledge that the lonely man with physical allure but no conversation, was undone.

Later, in her melting tower she turned the lock, took a shower, cleansed herself in steam, all the while humming the closing strains of a bawdy song, her demeanor briefly shaken by his desolate scream.

Wrapped in fresh linen, her renewed flesh forever banned from thinking of him, she slept.

The Daily Post #Banned

©Jane Paterson Basil

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This love of mine

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Fresh
this love of mine
like the unfurling buds of a beech tree in spring
yet evergreen
like the yew we lay beneath that day, beside the stream
and you, like that firm yew tree
strong enough to lean on
ever young to me

Warm
this love of mine
like the bricks that soaked in the summer sun
yet giving
like roses that day they opened their buds, displaying radiance
for all to see, but you said
their fragrant show
was just for me

Golden
this love of mine
like swirling leaves dying in the autumn breeze
yet alive
like my love; from that far-gone night when first I saw your face
until this lonely dreaming day
my love has survived
unchanged

Pure
this love of mine
like sparkling icicles in a winter waterfall
yet constant
though tomorrow, the ice may melt and drip, then rush away
I remain faithful to our stolen moments
through the seasons
of my life

©Jane Paterson Basil

Those promises

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those loving promises
shaped by shy lips
lightly brushing the ear
with caressing sigh
weaving a dry melody

those loving promises
conveyed through eyes
glittering with unfulfilled desire
their fire hidden
behind a tiny fear

those loving promises
pressed into my aquiescant flesh
giving your firm body confidence
finally making you believe
you had won my love

those promises so truly given

I regret that for me
it was merely a pleasant game of
sensuous interplay
ending in physical gratification

it should have mattered
that you were more than a mechanical toy
to be switched on with a click
and quickly discarded

you were so much better than that

did I hear the rip of your heart splitting?
possibly
but I was more interested in the promising blue eyed thing
swinging into view

I smiled at him, never guessing
he was my retribution

The Daily Post #Promises

©Jane Paterson Basil