My Heart is a Wild Place

 

My heart

is a wild place

But

I dare not tread

with loud feet

and ungloved hands

My heart 

Is a wild place

But

I move in subtle rhythm

With soft-coloured eyes

behind lashes

My heart 

is a wild place

But

Words are seldom

with a mute tongue

Surrounded by lips like cherries

My heart 

is a wild place

But

Touch is sharp

with finger tips

and nails

red

My heart 

Is a wild place

But

Pomegranate

and rose bush

twill in a wind

of frosty dew

My heart 

is a wild place

But

Once untameable

Now

sleeps peaceful

beside

loves

unspoken

tender tones

to tell a thousand words.

ALL WORDS COPYRIGHT

J.Calvert 2017

Winter’s Final Note-Revised

Winters Final Note In sleet and snow the land stretched below and the cold earth moaned a mournful cry The skies overhead bleed in white – drops fall beneath a sinking sky, harrowing unspoken sighs Running rivers rest in silver … Continue reading

Tonight, Send Me A Warrior King

 

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Tonight,
My enemy lies beside,
under the cover of night,
A little slice of heaven,
desire to roam my body, passion to clutch my throat,
lips wet with promise, lust never tasted so divine,
savoured like forbidden fruit, I bite with greed,
leave behind teeth marks
and a throbbing wound

Tonight,
send me a man,
a bold one,
a warrior king,
I need a fighter, someone who’s not afraid to sin,
a solider looking for a fight,
to combat under the sheets,
we will battle through to dawn,

Tonight,
is all we have,
tomorrow you can leave,
I’ll be finished with you by three,
we can be nemeses,
in the light of day,
but under the cloak of darkness,
you will be mine.

Tonight, you’ll stay.

@JCALVERT 2016, REVISED 2017

Sensual-Art-Photography-Couple-Intimate-photo-4

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To Kiss A Girl – Revised

I’ve always wondered

What it’d be like,
to kiss the lips, of a girl,
Soft and smooth,
like my own,
open and ripe;
the arc of her lips
pressed against the curve of my tongue,
to please
and feel the stir,
to stroke and suffer,
the sensations – textures of silky skin,
of two hearts beating in perfect applause,
to thread and tie,
the gather, of her strings,
the grip of her curiosity,
dearly – grasping my wrists,
in heated desire
our bodies dripping wet,
bound between curiosity and knowing
our bodies, to discover
each extinguished edge,
on the threshold, of the end,
to shake and tremble, delicate in our adore,
what it’d would be like,
to kiss a girl.

@J.CALVERT WRITTEN IN 2016, REVISED IN 2017.

A Braid Of Blue Horizon

Fragrant scents linger still
on light wind;
across the mill
Speaking to the trees
whispers softly spoke,
Between visions of gold;
lies Calla-Lilies
Bold
Trumpet shaped
paper-like bulbs
Painted in oil strokes,
Across Western Isles,
a braid of blue horizon
A hazy day unfolds
The hours between us;
filled with wordless minutes –
seconds slip
through our fingers
No matter how we cling
Voiceless
The silent sea
and the land moans sweetly
Words fail our sensibilities,
Disentangled by the strings that cast
and bind our hearts
Our senses curve above the sun,
The clouds a husky front –
The sound of silence
Speaks to us,
In the garden of our dreams.

@ J.CALVERT 2017

Photography courtesy of Pinterest

Cats Paw 

Who where you in my dreams 

I was the symmetric shape 

Of stems  

And smoking pipes,

A ornamental lilac 

Self-titled 

singular beauty  

A touch-me-not

between fingertips 

And open ended sentences 

All vying to be heard. 
Who were you in my dreams?

You were the shadows 
paraded 

across the moorlands 

The winds breath, 

a cats paw gently taping on the 

waters edge 

A poisonous look-a-like creeping 

through the fence

All vying to be heard. 

In a dream 

We were. 

J.Calvert 2017 

Photograph one: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/258957047299286025/

Photograph two: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/258957047299286025/