The Music of Love
Bodies warm with passion's heat
pressed together in hungry embrace.
Intertwined we move as one,
synchronizing to the inner beat
of desire's baton.
The erotic rhythm of hips in motion
thrusting in time with the melody
that steals its way from the depths
of our most primitive selves.
A harmony of sounds unintelligible,
voiced only by passionate lovers.
Bodies warm with passion's heat,
hard dancing to the music of love.
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AFTER THE DANCE IS OVER
By Robert W. Birch
We danced as lovers dance
to music only we had heard.
A hot beat to which we moved
in perfect time,
with perfect synch.
Unhurried though each driven on,
both knowing how the dance would end.
We shared the lead
as the tempo quickened.
You followed me,
I followed you,
each wanting that conclusion
as ageless passion demands its due.
Our cries loud as bodies yield,
sounds from deep within escaped
to alert close neighbors
to the simultaneous climax of our dance.
The music softened,
mellow in its final strains.
We curled together our contented bodies,
our cries at last subdued,
and only now a gentle purring.
In this quietness our muffled moans yell out
a thousand words of utter joy,
in celebration of our dance,
in recognition of our love.
We laughed and played a while
although our dance had ended.
Naked, you fed me grapes --
a piece of chocolate pressed to my lips,
combining with the sweetness of your essence
that still lingered in my mouth.
Bodies young, if but in our minds,
still needing gentle caring touch
still needing tender lasting love.
The beat has changed,
soft music now,
after the dance is over.
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Gentle Love
By Robert W. Birch
Tender skin,
soft under my finger tips.
Dark eyes that watch my touch,
closing only when overtaken by pleasure.
A pretty face,
framed in soft hair.
Unpainted lips,
responsive to my gentle kiss.
Full round breasts,
youthfully eager for attention.
Each nipple firming
to my loving touch.
Soft smooth skin,
tender on inner thighs.
Shapely legs open
to my gentle persuasion.
Delicate secrets revealed,
hungry to know more of love,
Wet with passion's sweet nectar
tender to a lover's touch.
Oh dear woman,
your heart is precious,
Your spirit soars
When desire overwhelms you.
Oh sweet lady,
my desire for you consumes me.
To know your heart
And fly high with your spirit.
Hold me closely
and touch me in gentle ways.
Receive in return
the gifts of my love and desire for you.
Let's be together
for this brief time we walk this path.
Let's learn of joy
and take fond memories when we part.
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SWEET REMEMBRANCE
By Robert W. Birch
We walk a secret path today,
in the moment of our quiet intimacy.
Not knowing where this trail will lead,
nor grasping when it ends.
We share our private thoughts today,
trusting they'll do no harm.
Along this path we stop to share
inner feelings, deep desires.
We walk today this special route,
and each reach out for the other.
Hands and hearts together now,
spirits joyful and intertwined.
My mind is filled with sweet images,
like souvenirs collected along our way.
Memories to prompt our journey,
each exciting as the last.
Someday the path we walk today
will narrow so only one
must walk alone in silence
with the memories of what had been.
Collected memories in my mind,
a mental scrapbook for me to carry
if I must take the narrow path
and carry only the traces of your being.
Memories of your smiling lips,
eyes that danced with laughter.
sensual images of full breasts
warm and soft under my gentle touch.
Images of your womanhood
proud and free in its response.
Fragrances that will long linger
after the rose has gone.
Your gentle loving heart,
caring in such an honest way.
A brilliant grown-up mind,
but still within the playful child.
Remembrances of our secret walk
along that hidden path
will warm my soul on winter days,
a bright star to light my nights.
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