It was another lonely evening
In another lonely bar
When across the crowded gathering
I see, there he was
Intoxicating beauty and grace and poise
Seemingly unaffected by the crowd and the noise
I watched him deflect suitors by the dozen
Hovering about and stalking him like prey
he came over sat down beside me
we talked we talked for what seems to be hours.
never running out of things to say,
feelings to share, thoughts to exchange.
in my mind i could'nt hel but wonder
"Of full moons.... Above warm tropical rains
Of long moonlit walks on the sands
Of fine wines and candlelit dinners
Of mountain log cabins with crackling fires
Of romantic destinations,and nights filled by sighs"
he is a man
a man whose conversation is an event
Intelligent, inventive, romantic, and heaven-sent
Knowledgeable about so many subjects
With a voice that entrances sweet and direct
A man's maturity and a little boy's innocence
Simple naivete and seductive temptress
A complex man without a doubt
he talks with thing a woman can only imagin
Chivalry, sensitivity, and romance
Qualities begging for enhancement.
I finally crawled into bed last night, late.
With visions of him still in my head.
Anticipation pounding in my heart.
All my senses filled with his existence.
As I escaped into the dream world I know so well,
I took him with me.
Our bodies seemingly without direction move toward each other.
The desire almost unbearable.
The passion burning in our hearts so overwhelming.
We are unable to maintain control of our own destinies.
Our bodies became one.
We make love in such a way that direction from Venus herself must be at hand.
Only paced by the rhythm of our hearts.
Accelerated by the hunger for more.
The cycle seemingly never ending.
Hunger and the attempt to satisfy it.
Our hearts thundering like a storm on the sea of love.
The frenzied yet graceful, almost poetic energy abounds.
We erupt in a flow of passionate waves that humbles the nearby sea.
I slept only to awaken to another day.
Turning to touch him.
He's are not there.
was it a dream, or was he really there
The feelings still in my heart.
The vividness of the encounter still in my mind.
I go and try to search for the man of my dream
i search the bar that i visited last night only to find he is there
in the seat we shared he stands as i go near takes my hand
and asks my name i stood there amased that i found the man
so i tell him "My name is Madison Smith" i ask him his name it is
Stuart Woods we sit an talk then he asks me if i should like to go for a walk
i reply he grabs my hand we walked down the beach together.
Our hands touching and our hearts bonding through them.
The wind kissing our faces gently.
The sand giving way under our feet.
The warmth in our hearts that only a poet would understand.
We sit beneath the giant tree, on a patch of thick grass
that seems to have been put there just for us.
I reach out to touch him and he stopped my hand with his.
Our fingers touch. Our hands envelop each other.
Almost as though they were making love to each other.
Our fingers dancing. Our eyes gazing into each others.
A soft and gentle smile exchanged between us i become cold as i'm only
wearing a short black dress he takes his coat and gives it to me he wraps me in his
arms.
As we lay secure in each others arms in the shade of the giant tree
we listen to the song that the wind and surf play just for us.
Feeling love not surpassed by Romeo and Juliet.
We drift into a world in our minds that we share in a way that is unexplainable
A connection of souls.
My mind screamed out "Make love to me"
My body screamed out "Make love to me"
He did more than that
Without a word
Without a thought
He touched my face, kissed my lips , nibbled my ear,
i thougth of such Passion, Desire, Lust
he knew just what I wanted and how to give it to me
from the top of my head to the tip of my toes
I shivered and cried out for more
the rush of sensation passed through my body
Aromas of citrus, colognes and faintly, the sea
drift and swirl around us.
skin drenched, rivulets of salty sweat stream between us.
sauna heat builds as temperatures rise.
flesh moves with synchronized, frantic fluidity.
a torrential river violently rushes into a cascading waterfall.
drowning in a frenzied whirlpool, gasping for air, silent screams.
then the peace of a tranquil, crystal clear lake prevails
and the relaxation of a hot spraying shower returns,
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Submission Name: Dreaming of the perfect man.
