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Old Lovers
Old Lovers
Crickets chirp through the stillness
Quiet humming of tree frogs fills the night air
We lay in the tent like two doves
My face nuzzled against your breasts
We have passed through the years like this
Finding silent moments to ease each other
Your soft touch, the warmth of your body against mine
The impenetrable darkness outside
Waters rushing by in the stream below the cliffs
Wind rushing across the tree tops, deep exhalation of the earth
Your sigh deep in the night
Our closeness a second nature
But on this night some strange mystical force
pulls us beyond practiced rituals
Into a deep ecology of intimacy
Our boundaries blurring
Feeling the earth beneath my soft flesh
I feel your body so palpable, so feminine
My thigh sinks into a tight crevice between your legs
Your reply a slipping off of lingerie
A melting into heated embrace
Whimpering desire
Your nipples brush against my chest
Hardened cherries
Like pin pricks, tingling against my silky skin
Your yearning leading your fingers to my hips
Following the contours across my pelvis
I long for your hands to contact me
In the nexus at the center of my pleasure
But your fingers trace a path around
Reaching around my back
Trickling down from my sacrum
I feel the warmth of your passion
Like a familiar dish
Yet with an exotic new ingredient
A spice I have not tasted before
As our tongues meet and plunge into one another
I savor your taste
A sweet tantalizing appetizer
Of what is to happen between us
Finally, your fingers grasp me at the crux
You gently urge me onto my back
Settling onto me with deliberate kindness
Our bodies merge like two rivers meeting
Our waters flowing together in one stream
Torrents of wetness flowing down my back
In the long hot night
Feeling the currents move through my limbs
Carried along by your hips undulating against me
My nails digging into your flexing posterior
My hips clasped betwixt your thighs
My scepter cleaving into you
Sealed in the loving embrace of your grotto
All I feel is heat and flame
The converging of our spirits
In this sacred moment
Our love consummated
In a sharing deeper than wedlock
Roots intertwined
Our essences mixing
The core of my being
Cradled softly in your hands
Like an egg, so delicate and vulnerable
Your breath filling me with life
A marriage of souls
Crickets chirp through the stillness
Quiet humming of tree frogs fills the night air
We lay in the tent like two doves
My face nuzzled against your breasts
We have passed through the years like this
Finding silent moments to ease each other
Your soft touch, the warmth of your body against mine
The impenetrable darkness outside
Waters rushing by in the stream below the cliffs
Wind rushing across the tree tops, deep exhalation of the earth
Your sigh deep in the night
Our closeness a second nature
But on this night some strange mystical force
pulls us beyond practiced rituals
Into a deep ecology of intimacy
Our boundaries blurring
Feeling the earth beneath my soft flesh
I feel your body so palpable, so feminine
My thigh sinks into a tight crevice between your legs
Your reply a slipping off of lingerie
A melting into heated embrace
Whimpering desire
Your nipples brush against my chest
Hardened cherries
Like pin pricks, tingling against my silky skin
Your yearning leading your fingers to my hips
Following the contours across my pelvis
I long for your hands to contact me
In the nexus at the center of my pleasure
But your fingers trace a path around
Reaching around my back
Trickling down from my sacrum
I feel the warmth of your passion
Like a familiar dish
Yet with an exotic new ingredient
A spice I have not tasted before
As our tongues meet and plunge into one another
I savor your taste
A sweet tantalizing appetizer
Of what is to happen between us
Finally, your fingers grasp me at the crux
You gently urge me onto my back
Settling onto me with deliberate kindness
Our bodies merge like two rivers meeting
Our waters flowing together in one stream
Torrents of wetness flowing down my back
In the long hot night
Feeling the currents move through my limbs
Carried along by your hips undulating against me
My nails digging into your flexing posterior
My hips clasped betwixt your thighs
My scepter cleaving into you
Sealed in the loving embrace of your grotto
All I feel is heat and flame
The converging of our spirits
In this sacred moment
Our love consummated
In a sharing deeper than wedlock
Roots intertwined
Our essences mixing
The core of my being
Cradled softly in your hands
Like an egg, so delicate and vulnerable
Your breath filling me with life
A marriage of souls
Published 24th Aug 2022
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24th Aug 2022 2:44am
24th Aug 2022 6:17am
A tent out in the wilds can be a good place to consummate things. Sensuous read throughout, favourite verse, which led me on to read the rest:
Your yearning leading your fingers to my hips
Following the contours across my pelvis
I long for your hands to contact me
In the nexus at the center of my pleasure
But your fingers trace a path around
Reaching around my back
Trickling down from my sacrum
I feel the warmth of your passion
Like a familiar dish
Yet with an exotic new ingredient
A spice I have not tasted before
As our tongues meet and plunge into one another
I savor your taste
A sweet tantalizing appetizer
Of what is to happen between us
My own "centre of my pleasure" warmed to it.
Your yearning leading your fingers to my hips
Following the contours across my pelvis
I long for your hands to contact me
In the nexus at the center of my pleasure
But your fingers trace a path around
Reaching around my back
Trickling down from my sacrum
I feel the warmth of your passion
Like a familiar dish
Yet with an exotic new ingredient
A spice I have not tasted before
As our tongues meet and plunge into one another
I savor your taste
A sweet tantalizing appetizer
Of what is to happen between us
My own "centre of my pleasure" warmed to it.
24th Aug 2022 11:48am
Solomon_Song, I am most pleased that you enjoyed this poem as it is based on the reality of my late wife and my experiences with camping at our favorite site in the woods. Thank you my friend for reading and understanding my wife and my love of the forest and the thing we did on many a night while serenaded by night noise.
John
John
Hadn't realised that was the background. No less enjoyable for being a true story.
Reminds me that the honeymoon of the then 50-something Robert Baden-Powell (the first world chief scout) and his much younger wife (who became chief girl guide) was spent camping.
Reminds me that the honeymoon of the then 50-something Robert Baden-Powell (the first world chief scout) and his much younger wife (who became chief girl guide) was spent camping.
24th Aug 2022 11:38pm
Interesting parallel you draw. In my wife and my case, she was a good bit older than me. But love knows no age or at least didn't for us. Thanks so much, Solomon_Song for sharing that bit of history.
John
John
25th Jan 2023 9:43pm
25th Jan 2023 10:27pm
