HOME
POETRY
SHORT WORKS
NEW STUFF
JUST DEAN MUSING
PICS
GUESTBOOK/
READER'S
COMMENTS
The Show…
Like
an expectant audience
Awaiting the unveiling of something spectacular
I lay back awaiting the treat about the befall my eyes
Smoothly, her pink towel glides down her breasts
And I am held breathless by two perfect mounds of flesh
Molded by the hands of God with such love and care
Defying gravity they rise and fall to their own inner beat
I rise along with them to watch the show
In a heap around her feet her towel falls silently besides her
Her nakedness heats up the room
My heart is thumping as loud as an African drum
My hands are shaking with anticipation
Of the wondrous blessings about to bestowed on me
Every time we make love it still feels like the first time
Every time I embrace her nakedness
Touch her with the gentleness of my love
She responds with a fevered passion
The kind seen when love touches
The most sacred part of your soul
She weeps for me even though I’m there
She weeps not from sadness,
But from a fulfillment of the soul
A nourishment of her spirit
A vindication of believing in another human being
And that love has proven itself to be worth the wait…
Jean-Pierre,
Dean
4-9-99
(A lifetime ago)
(This work is copyrighted)