My gift...

[erosman]

My gift to you
Costs me nothing.
My skin
My smile
They are yours.

I breathe your name,
There is no effort.
My heart beats,
Your memory lives in each pulse.
The essence of your love...
Is life.

 

[Wiggles]

That's beautiful Erosman.
Who's it about? She is a lucky lady.


















I was expecting a nudie pick though......

 

[MissTaken]

Beautiful, erosman! I love the sentiment behind the poem.


Does your gift come with a bit red ribbon!

 

[AStormyOne]

That was wonderful Erosman. That's a gift any woman would be lucky to have.

Storm

 

[espressolover]

erosman

That is truly beautiful, echoing so many others as I say this!

Thank you for the lovely gift you have shared with all of us...hmmm...I love this place!

espressolover

 

[erosman]

It was just what I was feeling...moments ago

It's how I love.

I started with one face - one lover - and moved through my memories. She is present in all of you.

It's the curse of the feminine upon my huMANity.

 

[espressolover]

erosman

You are a gift to us here.
What a beautiful mind and heart...thank you so much for sharing your thoughts with us!

espressolover

 

[daughter]

Care to join us

in "Story & Poetry Feedback"? We have some interesting poetry discussions. We are always happy to have new voices.

erosman, you are not shy about sharing your creativity. You'll find a receptive audience in the writer forums.

Peace,

daughter

 

[stargazer]

your gift

As part of the feminine side of our culture, I think I can speak for a part of us at least. Thank you for being open and honest, for sharing your soul and letting us see that there are men out there that aren't afraid to be themselves. Love.

 

[cymbidia]

You are an exceptional caring and verbal man, both here on the GB and in private communications. I'm awed at your abilities to put so much emotion into so few words.

 

[erosman]

denada...sikitu...hapana maneno

Does the treasure feel its worth?
Does a diamond know its value?
Can gold enjoy its own lure?
A secret gift...
lifeless without intent.


The heart whispers
The mind listens
The hand writes
The memory lives on.




Story and Poetry Feedback?? Sounds intimidating to a 'plough boy'. Perhaps, Daughter, I will find the courage to see you there.

 

[erosman]

Thanks Cym

Your heart only feels what it has known on its own journey.
The recognition is the remembered fragrance of your own garden.

We cultivate our Spring, with memories of Summer
Tomorrows hope swims in todays perspiration.

 

[Guest]

edited

 

[Guest]

Re: your gift

edited

 

[stargazer]

Let's do lunch

I think that I'd like to have a lunch with Erosman....a long lunch with lots of conversation and anything else that might develop. Should we take numbers? I'll take #1 & #2, if that doesn't seem too greedy.

 

[AStormyOne]

We're taking numbers to have lunch with Erosman??

Will you quote some more of your poetry Eros?

Storm
*standing in line*

 

[KinkyKandy]

That was really awsome erosman!

 

[Georgia Girl]

I would like...

numbers 3 and 4 ---- 7 course meals so they take a looooooong time. Lots of conversation and learning about the nerve singeing passion running through his veins.

Dawn

 

[cymbidia]

Re: Thanks Cym

We cultivate our Spring, with memories of Summer
Tomorrows hope swims in todays perspiration.

We endure the Winter while the memories of Summer warmth haunt us.
Tomorrow seems distant, Spring a whispered taunt threading our dreams.

 

[erosman]

Ladies, you make me blush.

If you ladies only knew...I'd take each of you on your own special 'lunch'.

Yes! In the morning we would make literary love over a cappuccino while writing our own poetry. We would spend the day at the lake paddling a canoe and talking about the clouds. We would spread a blanket on a secluded sandy beach and picnic on our hearts singeing passions - long, lusty embraces of the soul that would feed desire's hunger. We would dine in the evening with linens and crystal, drinking the wine of our ripe emotions. Dancing on a moonlit stroll through the park...making our own music...our own rhythm...our own memories - whispering our love and inhaling its perfume. Time would disappear in the darknes, as we laughed and played with childlike enthusiasm - frolicking bodies lost to the richness of pleasures. And when our full hearts could hold no more...we would rest beneath a canopy of peaceful emotions...one heart forged from two wills.


Time and space prevent the detailed descriptions of the warm touches, the probing hands, the oral delights, the firm thrusts and passion's invitations for delirious gluttony. Those impromptu details will flow from our creative urges...yours and mine.

 

[mixelplix]

very nice

 

[erosman]

cym

We endure the Winter while the memories of Summer warmth haunt us.
Tomorrow seems distant, Spring a whispered taunt threading our dreams.

Bright melodies of summer mornings
Echo faintly in winter's grey veil
Nights of warm timelessness
Fade into solitary solstice
Summer's harvest of love
Stands bleak against lonely hunger

Shortness of light
Shortness of breath
Shortness of hope

Despairing tears flood dormant fields
Sharp edges of emotion flay the soul
Forges of unforgiving coldness
Purge dross of disappointment
Time's healing journey crawls
Light, breath and hope flicker



cym...memories give me presence
vain answers fail to feel

 

[stargazer]

lunch

With a "lunch" description like that.....Get out your calendar and get ready!!!!!