Girl In Garden

A growing idea lies naked upon my garden floor.
I’m amused & in love.
She writhes like a snake in ecstasy born of deliverance.
She smiles & the sky above burns in evening tones of blue.
I laugh.
The idiocy of it all turns my eyes to water & the plants the laugh.

I’m gazing now.
Far fetched mushrooms of hope & the chastity of my summer berries grow.
Swarms of tender green shoots finger their way across the open space.
I hear the petals grin in merriment & salutation.
I don’t care if no words pour forth from their sealed lips.
I know their happy.
I know they watch.
I know they love.

& below.
My succulent body of female worship sits in fresh repose.
Her sacred flesh a whisper to my gaze.
I bow to her.
She reaches forth with thought & hand & steals my attention from the beauty of my god.
I caress her soft waterfall of luxury & hair.
She pleases me.
Her braided hair.

She makes me laugh as birdsong whistles in trees so tall
& I fall for her.
& breathe. Or sigh.
Or lungs that tell the world I love her so.
& in this garden she rules my heart.

Nature glows in warm applause. A rustle of the autumn wind & she is mine.
My girl.
My perfect girl.

~ in nature I think of you. in nature I smile at you.
© ed simkins 2015

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I think of her & sigh.

That smiling, wondrous, cheeky, soft pinkish face of hers!
With words which flow & charm & melt my heart!
That dreams create!
That love begins.

Or be it affection deep or adoration told that I could hold her sweetest charms.
& stand before like man to God & weep in abject joy.

That beauty of such tender child reaches forth and gallops through my heart with unashamed bliss
To kiss
A most indulgent thought!
Which ought, I say,
Declare my mind to be nothing free, but linked to the whimsy of her deeds.
& needs.
In late night love affair when I will dream
Of her.
& watch the roses of her heart blossom into ladies bloom
& fill this room from whence I write
With stars so bright that want or might would bring her here
& thence upon this chair beside be near
I would look upon her skin, & smile
& know that
I love her.

& I turn to her.
gaze belovedly upon her face
& heart will pace
& fingers stretch to caress her neck
& gentle lay upon her tender hair
These words I rhyme with passioned care
& say, with whispers of a knight from old
I love thee.

With all my heart, as the sun declares
Each morning rises high & stares
With wonder at the naked earth & all the beauty held within,
Thus I look at you my love
and dreams begin.

& love exudes.

From my heart to the world of yours tonight.
Because of you.

Because
of you.

~ inspired & in complete devotion to you. to HER,
© ed simkins

Curls Of Pleasure & Breathless Bliss

She turned & I was stumped!
A jewel within the world of men,
A cliché thought but one which sung!
& happy dreams care only for the truth of that particular moment in which I saw the face of beauty smile.
& I was happy.
Content upon those eyes which shined & lips which taught my heart to love.
Or at least to dream & how I did!
A man of such wit & want can only see the world in which I write & think!

Her face, oh her pretty little face!
With a frame of such wonder which surrounded & projected such feminine beauty that I could hardly know to beat my heart again.
Her perfect blonde hair in giddying rolls & curls of fun danced across her naked shoulder.
Her smile skipping upon the breeze of thought
& with a slight tilt of turning head, paused & spotted me.
She shone her forceful light of joy & I was gone!
Melted by the beam of love.
My fingers wished to twirl in her delicious silken locks
How could she look like this & not be kissed?
Or held!
Or worshipped but by my eyes alone!
& thus they were!
A secret dream in crowded room.

& so in stance, these happy dreams filled the air as she stood in slacks & pretty thoughts,
& all the happy time my mind drank her in, blood engorged on feminine charm.
I smiled,
she smiled again
& all the deeds within my head were done!
Her beautiful, graceful little bum, the charming whimsy of her waist,
The luscious tone of her skin & the naked appeal of her dress
A simple pretence I thought!
But when I raised my eyes to gaze from the words I’d wrote,
There I found her, still standing there,
& I could not move!

Succulent & ripe she was, a fruitful fancy of healthy design
I was tempted to pinch a daring taste!
But I was stopped by fate in such employed disguise!
& Oh how I dream in seconds told of holding her & whispering in her delicate ear such pleasured thoughts
That gentle knowing giggles would flitter from her warming bosom
& tickle softly ears which long to hear her sigh & tease.

How beautiful she looked today
Her swept back hair an immaculate force
Magnetizing my heart which yearns for her.
& From here alone, I softly kiss
Oh that she could know or appreciate the dreams I have of her.
& in my evening dreams
Entwined fingers would sing.

~ I saw her today & she was stunning!
© ed simkins

The girl with yellow hair

Quickly!

Smile & you’ll see the face of two darling strangers running, playing.

Quick! There they go! Hurry, catch them! Running & falling in love quicker than I can ever write!

& Oh the joy of how they skip, two lovers run.

I want their beauty captured, their time immortalised,

Set the sun. Capture it. Frame it! Place the faces of the young all over the walls and watch the darkness turn back in time.

That pretty girl in youth in full state of charming grace, a strong man of words her chosen fate.

They smile.  & Still you need to watch their faces burn!

Flowers in the streets & corridors of colour. Simple echos of sounds of silent laughter.

They pause & turn, his hand stops hers.

Firm & right, her wrist is small. Their veins pulsate, their breathe resists.

& Within her eyes he says a shortened word, her face reacts with a blood red hue.

& this is love!

Yes, this is fantasy and dreams and bounds & screams of youth. This is freedom!

This is escape!

Her golden hair the daffodils friend. Her pure white cheeks, her crimson lips.

There’s no need for kiss though man would seek. Their secret radiance intensifies.

Her shining dress, her blacked gown, a floral princess in summer’s dance.

But shush!.

Quiet. The crowds are back!

Girl and boy do gaze and part & watching them; a beating a heart.

This girl is mine, though she says no name.

& I watch her.

& smile.

(c) Ed Simkins

~ A secret girl inspires