Poems

Lick

I want to lick the salt from your face
and eyelids...lashes
feel the grains with
the tip of my tongue
on your cheeks and earlobes
your neck
as you lie in a dried
pool of sweat...
all that's left
after loving's ocean
rose over you
once
twice
three times or ten
in wave after wave

                

CAROUSEL

Your fingers ride my thigh,
graceful, moving in
slow canter.
--merry-go-motion--

Astride you, my
favorite horse
--festooned with flowing ribbons--
and giddy with carousel spin.

We whirl to a tune
of Calliope's band
rising and falling to
rhythms within the
circle.

Gradually the music
slows and stops,
forgotten reality returns...
fingers gently linger
for one more chance
at the brass ring.

                

GARDEN

below blossoms wetness;
lubricating rain
flows along furrow
welcoming
the planting

your grown shaft
the plowshare
wanted

lowering to soft bed,
spreading,
eager rustlings in
earth-dark air.

                

MAPPING

Spread your fingers wide
support
lift to your lips
trace topography with tongue-tip
lay kisses on rosy nipple
then between hillocks
trails of sparkling liquid
so as not to lose your way.

©2005 by Diana Weiss

                                                                                                                                                                                               

Reader Comments

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Diana has been writing for many years and most things she writes would not be a good fit for Clean Sheets. She is, however, thankful she found a place for these poems.