Poetry by Jeff Green



by cricketjeff on April 4, 2010.  © Jeff Green, All rights reserved

The taste of passion lingers on her lips,
With eyes still closed she sees inside his mind.
The pleasures that his body left behind
She slowly sucks from scarlet fingertips.
She lies in bed as satin cover slips
And leaves her nakedness for him to find,
In careless posture cleverly designed
To draw his eyes to gaze on shapely hips.

Instead of sleep she dreams of hasty sighs,
Of moments spent exploring tenderness,
The moment that she first felt thighs on thighs,
And how the bed’s a “filthy harlot’s mess”.
    Her Mother would not smile to see the scene,
    The daughter though is feeling quite serene.