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No, no need to tell us the *SUMMER* one *w*

Thanks for sharing Miss Jax !

Warming Her Pearls.
By, Carol Anne Duffy.

Next to my own skin, her pearls. My mistress
bids me wear them, warm then, until evening
when I'll brush her hair. At six, I place them
round her cool, white throat. All day I think of
her,

resting in the Yellow Room, contemplating silk
or taffeta, which gown tonight? She fans herself
whilst I work willingly, my slow heat entering
each pearl. Slack on my neck, her rope.

She's beautiful. I dream about her
in my attic bed; picture her dancing
with tall men, puzzled by my faint, persistent scent
beneath her French perfume, her milky stones.

I dust her shoulders with a rabbit's foot,
watch the soft blush seep through her skin
like an indolent sigh. In her looking-glass
my red lips part as though I want to speak.

Full moon. Her carriage brings her home. I see
her every movement in my head...Undressing,
taking off her jewels, her slim hand reaching
for the case, slipping naked into bed, the way

she always does...And I lie here awake,
knowing the pearls are cooling even now
in the room where my mistress sleeps. All night
I feel their absence and I burn.

---------

Mwah,
Amber

I'm not sure where you're cockles are either but I can tell you I once roasted some nuts in a brazier

At the kitchen counter, cooking
talking of our love,
the lovers that hadn't worked before.

Onion waxed translucent
in butter and olive oil;
grains of rice, wine and broth
risotto plumping, concentrating on the stove--

we taste asparagus and mushroom
drink Alsatian Reisling
look into each other's eyes
and know this time there is a difference
in this love that we can taste and chew--
This love will nurture us.

We reach across the plates and glasses
sparcs arc between our finger tips--
we have to have each other for dessert.

After, back in the kitchen,
you call me to you,
unfold your robe
and draw my hand into our wetness--
I fall onto my knees to worship
and to taste of it.

And in the night,
weaving in and out of sleep,
in and out of consciousness--
every time to find you
folded in my arms--
wrapped up like a present
we are giving to each other.
----------------------------------------

Mwah,
Amber

Shaving Night Sonnet

By: Debra Pennington Davis.

I can't help but watch the blade reveal
the face behind the man. Each careful stroke
reshapes the curves my fingers itch to feel.
I'd trace--So soft--Your jaw, your lips, your nose
and never nick or scratch your tender skin
if you'd abandon that cold blade for me.
My hands would kiss the spot above your chin;
they'd sculpt the lids below your brow and see
just where your slow, lovely lines would lead.
Again you dip your soap edged sword and stir
the heat to steam; it rises, mists. It beads
and paths of silver fingers stripe the mirror.
Finally, you stop, so smoothly turn and trace
the lips that, line by line, reveal my face.
-------------------------------

Mwah,
Amber

The Word Plum- Helen Chasin (196

The Word Plum is delicious

Pout and push, luxury of
self-love, and savoring murmor

full in the mouth and falling
like fruit

taut skin
peirced, bitten, provoked into
juice, and tart flesh

question
and reply, lip and tongue
of pleasure.

------------------

Mwah,
Amber

Thom Gunn

It was your birthday, we had drunk and dined
Half of the night with our old friend
Who'd showed us in the end
To a bed I reached in one drunk stride.
Already I lay snug,
And drowsy with the wine dozed on one side.

I dozed, I slept. My sleep broke on a hug,
Suddenly, from behind,
In which the full lengths of our bodies pressed:
Your instep to my heel,
My shoulder-blades against your chest.
It was not sex, but I could feel
The whole strength of your body set,
Or braced, to mine,
And locking me to you
As if we were still twenty-two
When our grand passion had not yet
Become familial.
My quick sleep had deleted all
Of intervening time and place.
I only knew
The stay of your secure firm dry embrace.
-----------------

Mwah,
Amber

Have you beheld (with much delight)
A red rose peeping through a white?
Or else a cherry (double graced)
Within a lily? Centre placed?
Or ever marked the pretty beam,
A strawberry shows, half drowned in cream?
Or seen rich rubies blushing through
A pure smooth pearl, and orient too?
So like to this, nay all the rest,
Is each neat niplet of her breast

Between Your Sheets
by Lady Mary Wortly Montagu

Between your sheets you soundly sleep
Nor dreams of vigils that we lovers keep
While all the night, I waking sign your name,
The tender sound does every nerve inflame,
Imagination shows me all your charms,
The plenteous silken hair, and waxen arms,
The well turned neck, and snowy rising breast
And all the beauties that supinely rest
between your sheets.

Ah Lindamira, could you see my heart,
How fond, how true, how free from fraudful art,
The warmest glances poorly do explain
The eager wish, the melting throbbing pain
Which through my very blood and soul I feel,
Which you cannot believe nor I reveal,
Which every metaphor must render less
And yet (methinks) which I could well express
between your sheets.

A wanton young lady of Wimley
Reproached for not acting primly,
Answered: "Heavens above!
I know sex isn't love,
But it's such an attractive facsimile."

There was a young fellow of Lyme,
Who lived with three wives at one time.
When asked: "Why the third?"
He replied: "One's absurd,
And bigamy, sir, is a crime."

There was a young couple called Kelly
Who had to live belly to belly,
For once, in their hast,
They used library paste
Instead of petroleum jelly.

A young violinist from Rio
Was seducing a lady named Cleo.
As she slipped off her panties
She said, "No andantes,
I want this allegro con brio!"

My friend Billy's got a ten foot willy,
he showed it to the girl next door.
She thought it was a snake
so she hit it with a rake,
and now it's only four foot four.

There once was a young man of Ghent
Whose tool was so long that it bent.
To save himself trouble
He put it in double,
And instead of coming, he went.

There was a young girl whose frigidity
Approached cataleptic rigidity,
Till you gave her a drink,
When she quickly would sink
In a state of complaisant liquidity.

There was a young woman from Harlesden
Who sucked off her man in the garden
He said, "I want to know
Where does my sperm go?"
She swallowed and said, "Beg your pardon?"

In the Garden of Eden lay Adam
Complacently stroking his madam,
And loud was his mirth
For he knew that on earth
There were only two balls - and he had 'em.

------

Mwah,
Amber

-------------------------------

The Vixen and The Fish

by Anonymous.

I feel like a fish that’s staring, at a worm on a hook.
I don’t know what to think, when you give me that look.
Your eyes could take me and break my heart in two,
If I ever let myself, fall in love with you.

It’s a game you’re playing, just making up the rules.
You don’t care what you say, as it works for you.
You just want what’s in front of you, never mind the price.
The problem is, the thing you want, could screw up my life.

It’s a toy your after, something new to own.
It’s just beyond your reach, in someone else’s home.
But you don’t want to love it, just play for a while.
Then you’ll just return it, with a vixens smile.

And say;

You’re a fish that’s staring, at a worm on a hook.
You don’t know what to think, when I give you this look.
Yes, I know I could take you and break you in two.
As I know I will never, fall in love with you.
-------------------------

Mwah,
Amber

Sex? Humor? How can you go wrong with that?

'cuz I'm f***ing blind!

Forgive me but I feel the need to interject w/ some dirty limericks; hope that's ok! XD I wrote them myself it that helps any???

'Sodomy Street'

Bath-time for Ernie was no strain
With his duckey's squeaky refrain.
But it was loved way too much,
And swallowed up in his clutch
To disappear down a hole, not a drain.

'The other, OTHER side of the fence'

This kind of love is divine;
The kind meant to last for all time!
No lusty blond do I crave,
Nor inflatable love slave
But bring me my doe-eyed bovine!

Okie dokie, I'm done now! XB