The moon recalls the night....narrator of it's memory.


  • nature
  • is adjacent to the sun and moon.....can life get any more creative

Poem Commentary

A moment in lust, for all the elements in the moon's eyes, are we in love..

The moon recalls the night....narrator of it's memory.

The dawn of the moon signals my anticipation

I'm yearning..
The glow of this sight in my third eye is pleasant
still a soft thought so beacons the canvas
yet to be indulged, my body lies upon it.

The tendril of fingers wake my soft thought
manifest the emotive as my dark bark grabed by this vine
so divine in thought I welcome this
this bliss is still a thought for thee has not reached me.

A shut door...
The sound reveres a chill throughout my body
it flows to my branch a hard thought becomes me
without rhyme, it reasons her steps becoming closer
closer to this ecstasy I have become fire within earth.

The warmth...
Candles surround this endeavor
I lie naked for pleasure, the light sets the mood
One last step, she enters amidst
lying on my canvas, we smile, a long robe
beneath this covering, the thought consumes me
throbbing is the branch, as life flows beyond me.

I stand...
We stood there wrapped, such as the vine on the tree
never to let go, the time has reached infinity
She is so warm, she is so hot now I feel
down goes the robe, now nothing is concealed
Our eyes meet yet again, passion begins
one soft kiss to one another...lets us in
The candle's light backs away as we become wind
now lying on the canvas we paint in succulence.

Breathing in varied forms...
I slowly indulge in her neck as my lips studies her contour
down a bit further I elate two breast, as she whispers, "Mi Amore"
I love her speech, I love her body, my lips and tongue show what I mean
down a little further the path is so moving
in view of her thighs, the perfect circle is throbbing
I mimic this action in lue of attraction
for the branch I possess calls for action
with my hands I grab her thighs
My face in excellence I kiss her lips
protruding from the circle of hers I taste sweetness
rapture becomes my tongue I lick the opening.

She moves with passionate fire...
This element becomes her as her tendrils grab my ears
moaning and moaning I paint a figure eight
one cannot escape for more awaits her fire
as she shakes I rise, her tendrils detach
she yearns for suction upon my branch
throbbing still as the vein so fills
her fingers grab hold, as vine tendrils to the branch
lo and behold her mouth welcomes the staff
slow yet vigorous, I'm filled with lust
my eyes close in pleasure, I'm feeling the rush
One eye opens, the first sight the moon
peaking in the sky through my window's view
I smile and look down her varied colored eyes meet mine
the tendrils still wrapped around for support of her wet lips
I retract my staff still full and proportionate
"lie down my love, let your circle be fulfilled"
The canvas half painted in many wiles of thrills.

We come together...
Lying so gorgeous she smiles
her ocean parts as my river guides
finds the mark in true romantic style
no force needed, the fluid motion it ventures
down the deep path within her center
stroke after stroke, slow and circular
she moans, I move to her heartbeat, her core
My face has yet again relaxed in her neck
I love how she breathes, she loves how I reflect
she holds me closer, deeper I set
I once again grab her thighs, for climax is next
"O papi, mi amore, mi corazon es en fuego"
she begins to shake yet again, I concentrate
all that I have to the motion without haste
moaning and moaning she yells with lustful inclinations
"aye popi! oh my God! ooooo"
I felt the rush of her ocean hurricane
upon my staff therefore it came
Now it beacons for me to follow
let go all inhibitions I thrust in her shallow pool
of succulent fluids, her wetness the tool
faster and faster, I feel my life force
without remorse, " oh mami, I'm coming"
"come in your ocean baby" response in this blushing
as the river meets the ocean in force
I am lost in the moment, but the moon looks on
squeezed her thighs one last time enthralled.

The after life...
We recall this song, this ecstasy, the every drop of sweat
our naked bodies so wept, in all forms we met
so we lie next to one another, spoon is the form
our eyes see the moon as it fades to dawn.....
We consumed the night upon....

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knight4696 commented on The moon recalls the night....narrator of it's memory.


Wow! Nature ... A very sensual and erotic write indeed. Such beautiful metaphors used to describe the passionate night. Very impressive wiritng my friend! Awesome Job! :) Ken

kittylilly commented on The moon recalls the night....narrator of it's memory.


it is ful of magik and i wounder in it and bask around it and i want to stay in the moment , it is a wounderful peom so think u for letting me ( of cause everyone) to read this excellent words u put together to lighting us blessed be kat

bluewolf commented on The moon recalls the night....narrator of it's memory.


Excellent use of metaphoric imagery, filled with passionate empathy. Very impressive work.

SavVySam commented on The moon recalls the night....narrator of it's memory.


Um...yeah! Incredible would be an understatement! Sizzling images,and beautiful word use, together taking their sweet time like the branch and the vine to linger in the nights magic! Great work!

When power leads man towards arrogance, poetry reminds him of his limitations. When power narrows the area of man's concern, poetry reminds him of the richness and diversity of existence. When power corrupts, poetry cleanses.

John F. Kennedy (1917-1963) Thirty-fifth President of the USA