Gentile Dreaming


  • Emotional
  • ,
  • Love

    Gentile Dreaming

    The warmth of the morning's breath
    sprawled across the bed.
    What's mine is yours...

    now grasping at linen sheets
    that glow so pure
    in a faint, timeless summer.

    I felt your arms maneuver around my waist,
    until they settled into place,
    strong like castle walls.
    Your eyes calculated time through precious memories
    that are now fogging our teenage minds.
    Your lips are gentile,
    as if you were holding an egg in the back of your throat.
    I was dreaming about the ocean
    only this time,
    I woke up,
    and the dream didn't end.

    By: Brandi Deacon

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    BlackButterfly1 commented on Gentile Dreaming


    Brandi, your writing skills are divine. I felt as if I were there while reading this. Excellent word play. Keep up the good work!



    Thank you...

    dahlusion commented on Gentile Dreaming


    "The warmth of the morning's breath sprawled across the bed. What's mine is yours..."—how sexy is this? very! And then this masterful phrase:"I felt your arms maneuver around my waist, until they settled into place, strong like castle walls"—oh, my!



    Hehe. Thank you, again. :) It sure means a lot to me.

    susanismith commented on Gentile Dreaming


    How sweet is this poem, knowing that your fantasy and dream is not a dream at all anymore but real... My mind drifting with your words... nicely written



    Thank you.. :)

    ginga commented on Gentile Dreaming


    bullets...this poem is "simply divine." It touched me in a profound way. ginga



    Thank you, Ginga. :)

    stefy commented on Gentile Dreaming


    So gentile..........really nice poem Brandi!!!..................



    Thanks new friend... :)

    A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

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