Sire's Passionate Encounter. It’s Not All About Sex...
Some people ask me why I persist with writing poetry on my blog, especially as they don’t elicit a whole lot of comments. I tell them its because I like using poems as a form of expression and that I love to share them with people. Even if one person happens to like what I wrote then I think it was worth the effort.
I wrote this after a personal experience I had in what seems to be eons ago. Some of you may not agree with my experience, unless that is you are a hot blooded Aussie male, who more than likely experienced exactly the same thing I did. And so, without further ado, My Passionate Encounter!
I got her home late one night
Picked her up at a bar, without a fight
I have wanted her, for so long
I could not wait for the last song.
Up the stairs we went, the door I locked
I held her close, I was so hot.
With a struggle I removed her top
I gazed upon her form, I could not stop
In desperation I tore off her wrap
You could almost hear the dripping tap
Perspiration covered her naked form
The beads of sweat visible now the wrap was torn
My feverish mouth claimed her own
The sensation so great my mind was blown
It was not long before she was spent
In frustration against the wall she went
Though short, for it did not last long
I knew I did nothing wrong
For as she lay there, once held dear
She truly was one heck of bottled beer
I hope you enjoyed that? It was actually and old joke or something that I turned into a poem because I couldn’t remember the joke itself enough to tell it as it should be.
We really enjoyed it, Sire. thats why I'm putting in a link to your site for people to read more of your wit, and perhaps some of your technical advice over there too!
Visit Sire
