Future Love...

In my minds eye, I see her standing there and this feeling, though I reach for it,
I cannot quite compare her, to books, or dreams, or honey coated lips
Dripping in the glistening, golden, juices of lust, and pre-marital perfection
Like a painting in oils, the two of us, hold hands at the country gate
Where only the deepest blue of her eyes, provides my heart protection
From pirates of love, and thieves of erotic nuances and lovers hidden potential
I hide my inner ambition, of exploration all over her private loveliness
And nakedly moving lovers hands over perfect breasts and shoulders lines
I cry out, silently imagining the wetness of her inner thighs and moving fingertips
That stroke my eagerness and impure intentions closely mimicking ravenousness
The kind of passion only poets write about of lovers in love and death
Planning secret rendezvous' at the stream where we first met, and since
Have learned to convince ourselves that true love begins deep inside a glance
And culminates in a scene, where we hold hands, and quietly profess we'll meet again
At the country gate we are forever dreaming of, that marks the entrance to our love
And to our secrets, given us, on this our day, of lovers future love... 

Tony Taylor  (Chicago)