Girl in Naked Rain

Bubbles of soft clear rain wash over her
Sensual skin alights in warm desire
I’m waiting to hold her close & dream
Her languid hair soaked with nature

She’s smiling nervously & enjoying this sacred rain
Water’s falling, cascading down
Torrents of summer lust caress
Twirling, whirling, loving her

& she’s standing there so naked
My gently sighing princess of love
Arms positioned, protecting her
Eyelashes flutter in the stealing rain

I love this girl, her mad desire
Just standing there, clothes beside my window
Tiptoed calves exaggerate her beauty
My eyes drawl from head to toe

A man lusts for such a beauty & one that I have found
Twenty-two & of such crazed delusions upon which I laugh
In dryness I giggle & laugh, a heartfelt explosion of raucous heartache
I love her so much I can barely contain!

She begins to wiggle & my smile flourishes such honest joy
Her firm young legs, her tight young bum
Crystal tears stomp & tickle their merry way across her body
Her slender hands wipe a path across her face of smiles.

She looks at me with naked desire & a single finger beckons me
How can man resist desire when nymph of passion calls?
Saturated clothes press against her tender breasts, i pull her tight
& buttons fall, my hands caress & lips of divinity meet in bliss

I care nothing for the naked rain no more; she’s won me through
This girl, this child, this perfect lady of strong will & desire owns
The simple loyal fool who stands & smiles
I succumb to her wonder & her perfect beauty naked in the pouring rain.

~ this morning’s rain & my strong desire merge in painted words. i love her.
© ed simkins

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If’s and when’s and maybe’s & all the words that fuck me up.

I sit here dreaming in the furniture of my youth.
Happy dreams that established me.
Playing out in the warm wide sun.
Soldiers trekking through the garden known.
I’m older now but wish I could
Open the door and return back there.
Those happy days without end or sight
Of deadlines which haunt me now and bind my mind.

I see myself as once I was
Smile alight on a tender face
Knowing none of the bullshit which haunts me now.
Running amok with innocent imagination on fire
And the rockery a battlefield of happy toys.
I’d climb on windows and escape the mess
Of Lego strewn on bloodied floor
Walls of Hadrian crossed the room
And days were spent in battles grown.

Then came desktops and cassette radios all climbed by men in suits
Uniforms of war and guns of fun
Stretched high and thrust upon the shelves of books.
I’d spend my days in conquest or happy defeat
Knowing that tomorrow I would do the same.
No need for doubt, no need for pain,
No need to care what mankind did or died outside.

Freedom is the word which recalls my youth
Playing football in the local park or street
Climbing trees and laughing loud, reading books and making plans
I’m older now, but I escape to then, I return to the past to find myself.
He who’s lost in this frightening grown up world
One of death and hate & fear and sin
Not like the world in which I began.

A child stays fresh, his mind alive
Fighting dragons and playing games, being cops and stealing space
All these things & more I held so dear.
The if’s and buts and when’s or maybe’s
They were never words when I was young.
I owned the world & I was king
I was someone special, alive, unique
I was as big as my ego wished itself to be.
Could life ever be like that again?

~ aka: A Lament For The Old Days
*one song, one programme, was all it needed to send me into a spin today.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FKd2G9CYKmE
http://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episode/b05r7nxx/onehit-wonders-at-the-bbc

© ed simkins

The Blissful Joy Of Watching You

Climb on to my bed and dance. That’s it – laugh girl!
I like your smiles! You make me grin!
You make me want to do things with you in my devious head.
Can I take you? Play you and make you sigh?
But let’s concentrate! – let’s just watch you jump & sing.
You’re crazy!
& I love you for it!
My bed rolls as you bounce and the mattress springs as you explode in childish delight.
I’d seek your pleasure in other ways. But then we’re just friends; We’re just having fun.
Without the flesh.
So continue & I won’t interrupt. Beside’s you’re too fresh, too innocent and having too much fun to spoil with the pleasures that evolve behind this gentlemanly mask.
But look at you.
Your simple, tectonic thighs, smooth skin that parts and calls my name.
Or so I imagine.
& your belly button – how cute is that? How can it be?
But it captures me & the firmness of your stomach aches for fingers to explore and clothes to rip.
Would my hands massage those tender feminine muscles of yours?
That slim figure of yours with curves that kill.
But I’m still smiling, watching – & I haven’t touched you…
Yet.
I need you to fall over. To collapse on me.
So keep the music loud and dance for me.
Writhe and squirm and tease this guy who’s fallen for you. Within.
& remain unaware of the secret which grows.
I cusp you, caress you & all you do is giggle. You’re so close to kiss.
But then we’re just friends. & I can hold your hand and pretend your smoothness doesn’t do anything.
I keep the lie behind my lips.
My mind is well controlled. No need to scare you.
You the girl who’s happiness pleases me so.
But how, how I want to stroke you.
Pleasure you.
See you fall in love with me.
God! – That human needs should ache for a friend who knows not the truth which rages deep behind these excited eyes.
You’d better go! I’ll see you another day.
For if you stay…
Oh, if you stay!…
Then a woman shall I make of you!
& my dreams begin.

~ thinking of that delightful, sweet tender girl who stimulates my heart.

© ed simkins

Dreams or Desire

Flesh is alive, her burgeoning skin.

She smiles and waves, her dark moist hair,

Talent is simple, her looks allure,

Curtain of crimson, drunk to entice

Mincing in stilettos, hidden by the glass.

She stands in black, bride of her youth.

Her golden smile, a payment in kind,

The mirrors reflect each movement she makes,

Whore to the world, & giver to none.

Music blares out and the outside is closed.

Distress is a scheme given by the king,

Shaken and torn by the prostitution of love.

Perfect curves and fakery in eyes,

A stolen child with a broken lost past

No wonder the destination is fours on the floor.

Blood and sweat, tears and her lips,

All entwined in the flickering flash of a thought

A neon light, cold water and bath

Dreams of an angel scream in her angst

Forged identities shatter her past

Hidden in bedrooms, families forget,

Child in her twenties, allowed to neglect

Lolita in fantasy, rhythm shakes deep,

Man fills her full, hate waves convulse.

Her perfect tan opulent in lies,

A deceit screams out in her paid ecstasy

Outside by the church, god talks of sympathy

His flock walks by, a mitigated falsehood.

And the delusions begin, He sees HER face,

He runs to the woman, the child in her dress,

An angel in death who brings him relief.

He calls out her name and their kisses they play

He holds her so close & her body relaxed

She disappears in arms, a cloud of the past,

Present unformed, the future guaranteed,

She leaves & she smiles, a dreamer beyond,

I watch without words of content or of soul,

A mishmash of ideas whirl & they smoke

Chase the impossible or live with the evils that surround?

Kiss the untouchable who creates a smile, a girl who he loves?

Or hold onto empty moments in the arms of the dead?

Either leads to the grave…but which route to his death?

Insanity of the dead? Or the frustration of the living?

Choices we make, are no choices at all.

Just the capriciousness of God who stands there above all.

~ Beauty I saw, Beauty I met, Beauty I dreamt of, Beauty an illusion?

© Ed Simkins