Poetry by Jeff Green


Hot nights

by cricketjeff on April 1, 2008.  © Jeff Green, All rights reserved

The room was small, the weather hot, the passion hotter still
He held her close and played her well with tenderness and skill
Not once or twice, she felt that nice, but maybe four or five
The room was small, the loving hot and now she felt alive

All night long, past breakfast time, the lovers danced their tune
She rode him hard, he rode her fast and all must end too soon.
Across his knees and in her bed in every way they tried
The pleasures of the carnal arts have left her warm inside

And now she’s curled contentedly, as in her sleep she purrs
Dreaming of the pleasures that a night of lust confers
Then all too soon the phone will ring, she has to rise today
Many things they have to do, then one more night of play!