The night rained streamers,
Red, blue and green,
Out of gunpowder clouds.
We held hands
Under a woolly blanket
Not to keep warm
But purely for our own
Licentious joy.
We oohed at the display,
Cool and unclothed.
Your nipples stood to attention
For the anthem.
My attention was elsewhere,
Turgidly gathering
Yelps of unbridled passion
From your lips.
In the dazzling afterglow
Of spent sparklers,
A final ‘phew’ was elicited by
A gentle withdrawal;
The blanket now used as a cover
For coy awareness
That while the night banged
We only whimpered.
Comments
sabital | July 10, 2008 - 08:22
Just to let you know my friend
your daily posts I read
but my scantiness forbids me
to comment on your seeds
I may one day even reach a place
should stand still the sands of time
when poetry sounds like poetry
and the words don't need to rhyme.
jennifer | July 10, 2008 - 10:36
Just divine, and rather naughty!
Bangs and a bang to boot!
Doeslittle | July 10, 2008 - 17:25
Good metaphor. Nicely and subtley done. Like the T S Eliot nudge at the end.
Dynamaso | July 11, 2008 - 00:08
Sabital, thanks so much for your considered and poetic response. Made me smile.
Thanks to Jennifer and Doeslittle as well for their comments and support.
QueenElf | July 13, 2008 - 18:58
Returning the read and I'm glad that i did. I like things I understand.
Dynamaso | July 14, 2008 - 00:39
QueenElf, thanks very much for your comment.
Leonie | July 14, 2008 - 13:42
this is lovely. i like it when people can write about boning well.
Dynamaso | July 15, 2008 - 01:05
Hahahaha... Leonie, thanks for making me laugh. I'm pleased you liked this.