I Still Do

She was a Callipygian Venus last night
with over the shoulder come hither smoulder
and an anatomy still honeymoon tight...
begging I'd hold her.

And nothing's finer than a spirited lass
impatient for more honeymoon give and take
involving midnight action sure to surpass
mounts by halter break.

For some, familiarity breeds contempt
and love only comes intermingled with hate,
but from that bleak dysfunction we are exempt,
If you can relate.

Few indeed are her objections to pleasure
since she knows full well to make the most of life
and that lovemaking makes the most to treasure
for a man and wife!

And so I say give the wedding bells a chance
since going along for love to come along
begets more opportunities for romance...
than a bird for song!

"My place or yours?"... are ever always ours
to ease the logistics of each nuptial tryst
with a domestic heat that never sours
and can't be dismissed.

Thusly heaven is in a master bedroom
if heaven is to be anywhere at all
betwixt the womb and the too welcoming tomb...
or last protocol.

How many more nights of wine and wedded bliss?
How ever many, we're taking what we get,
and punctuating it with a repeat kiss...
leaving no regret.

But there's been a narrative going around
that love without anguish ain't the real thing.
I beg to differ. Love and grace will abound...
when that's all you bring.