PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

We would kiss in freckled shadows

as eyes watched the fluxing Irish

sun Goddess Aine - dissolve her warmth

into an unseen world. The camouflaged

yard was full of flowering Dogwoods,

and bordering rows of arborvitae; you

could smell clover and I, for one

irreplaceable moment, unforgettable

fragrance from a single red rose.

Your treasurable yielding lips soft

as petals from a Calla Lily, shimmering

with peach gloss reminding me

of dewdrops; moisture inundating

the twinkling fires of daylight holding  

us for hours before we finally escaped;

clasped snug in teen cuddles as arms

wrapped like pretzels, and tongues

sipped from our chalice of innocence.  

You trembled, quaking willful into

drowning hugs and I felt you would

die to save me, surrendering every

shy insecurity without a single

compromise of your own virginity -

that you told me was reserved for him

who merited all your love. You needed

coaxing and a bit of persuasion, shunning

all but my kisses, wink, and embrace.

My mind revolved like a windmill into

designs of discovery, bated breath, and

child astonishment. Hands rocked in fear,

guilt ridden, after skating intentionally

to touch your breasts. Stop you said, and I

pled guilty with the same self-reproach

as a pubescent boy who reaches down

to fondle his own intimacy, caressing 

himself and discerns … this feels good.