deepundergroundpoetry.com
THE (MAKING) LOVE BOAT!
Upon a row boat, floating in the night;
my idea of nocturnal delight.
Making love upon our floating island,
while no one can disturb us from dry land.
Under the cover of moonlit darkness,
we stop rowing, get down to nakedness,
(Not there is much to take off in first place;
we wear no more than we would for a race.)
The clothes we took off become our mattress
on the wooden floor. We get down, caress
and kiss upon each other's bare skin;
soon we get the boat rocking and shakin'.
We get into rhythm, each other ride
while the boat is swaying from side to side,
and sending throughout the lake much ripples
as you respond to mouth on your nipples.
This lake is our wood topped water bed,
the boat's buoyancy is by us tested.
As one thrusts downwards, the lake pushes back
upwards while the passion is on its track.
The moon is shining on our bare backsides
while we're lost in the passion of our rides,
disregarding how voices may echo
as we merrily love on al fresco.
This is the ultimate 'being alone',
when we get flesh to flesh and bone to bone...
and when we have had the orgasmic trip,
we can wash ourselves with a skinny dip!
my idea of nocturnal delight.
Making love upon our floating island,
while no one can disturb us from dry land.
Under the cover of moonlit darkness,
we stop rowing, get down to nakedness,
(Not there is much to take off in first place;
we wear no more than we would for a race.)
The clothes we took off become our mattress
on the wooden floor. We get down, caress
and kiss upon each other's bare skin;
soon we get the boat rocking and shakin'.
We get into rhythm, each other ride
while the boat is swaying from side to side,
and sending throughout the lake much ripples
as you respond to mouth on your nipples.
This lake is our wood topped water bed,
the boat's buoyancy is by us tested.
As one thrusts downwards, the lake pushes back
upwards while the passion is on its track.
The moon is shining on our bare backsides
while we're lost in the passion of our rides,
disregarding how voices may echo
as we merrily love on al fresco.
This is the ultimate 'being alone',
when we get flesh to flesh and bone to bone...
and when we have had the orgasmic trip,
we can wash ourselves with a skinny dip!
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