Amor!
Author: Unknown
Ah! Amor … If I were but a romantic, what words
would I pen! But what does an innocent know of romance!
Captured in Ecstasy within your sparkling moon lit eyes, pools of wonder, fascination and entrapment.
Senorita listening to your captivating heart beating deep within, surging with unknown depth of human romantic sin!
Heart of splendor beating there for me to know.
Eyes of destiny, beckoning, flirting, calling me softly, whispering ever so low!
Mystic feelings deep within, glowing, burning awaiting a kiss from you, awaiting both of us to fall into mortal sin!
Cloak of darkness is upon us, may dreams of fantasy
enter your night and dream of me as I creep into your chamber of slumber!
Feel my nearness as my kisses caress the nape of your neck, the touch of my lips upon yours!
The feel of my exciting fingers tingling as they touch your finger tips and explore your forbidden places!
Sleep thee well
Until the morrow
Buenas Noches mi amor!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jul 2014
About this poem:
The Fantasy of love!
Comments (8)
Stay with me! (a little song for your pleasure, dear poet! Lyrics are full of mistakes, but who cares - not me, not you, I hope!)
fond remembrance ...
my friend from the land
of Georgia!
Thanks for your welcomed comments!
JimEee
Well penned
Mick.
Thank you for the comment!
Tis the romantic Irish heart
that keeps life ticking!
JimEee
I can't believe you're 84 years old...
Tis the Irish blood no doubt.
Plenty of falorum still there.
And, of course....the older the fiddle, the sweeter the tune,
at least the tune of that poem.
Your gift of gab is a pleasure to beholding. Fair play!
Tis the likes of you fine thing that keeps the Irish lad's
blood circulating and on their toes!
For such a pretty four leaf clover you bee!
You will lead some poor Irish lad down
the garden path of love!
He will fiddle you up a tune
That will have your feet a-dancing and dance
You away into Irish fields of glorious colorful heather!
Thanks for stopping bye!
Twas a pleasure to converse.
JimEee
If you only knew how hard it is to get a man hard where I live...
Tis true ... all the Irish men
have kissed the Blarney Stone
and are out looking for their Pot of Gold!
They are Dallying with the young Colleens along the way!
Tis a secret I bee a-telling thee
You have to snare your man like a rabbit
You can bare your lovely leg and trip him
or you can sprinkle faire dust along his path!
Soon he will look into your darling Irish eyes
and you can lead him to your bed!
Tis a bit like shooting fish in a barrel
For when you wink your lovely eyes at him
he doesn't have a chance!
The luck of the Irish be with you!
JimEee