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I wrote poems for you

Test of True Love

 

I wrote poems for you

 

I wrote poems for you.

Some were bold, burnished, bright.

They praised your beauty, your body.

Burning for your

brilliant mind.

 

I wrote poems for you.

Some were sweet, silky, soft.

They were sensual, sexual, seductive.

Seeking to steal

your sacred heart.

 

I wrote poems for you.

Some were yearning, wanting, craving.

They were aching, thirsting, needing,

Longing to draw you

into my arms

 

I wrote poems for you.

But they were just wasted

unwanted words.

You were always

someone else’s girl.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Jack Vettriano

 
18 Comments

Posted by on March 26, 2015 in Lovers Past, Poetry

 

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There is a woman

 rose_by_don_paolo

There is a woman.

She walks this earth.

I have not met her, although I once came close. I have barely seen her, though glimpses have thrilled me. I have never spoken to her, although I swear I can hear her sweet accent in my head. And in my dreams.

I do not know her perfume but her scent thrills me. I have not touched her but can almost feel her skin beneath my finger tips. I have not looked into her eyes, but feel light-headed at the thought.

I have not owned her, but the hunger to do so consumes me.

There is a woman.

She walks this earth.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Photo stolen from AntekPyra

I wrote this quite a while ago now. It was plagiarised by someone unscrupulous. I am posting it again because I suddenly remembered it when I started writing a post today that began ‘There is a woman ….’

So I trust you will forgive the republishing – this time with audio.

 
26 Comments

Posted by on March 25, 2015 in Still Life

 

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Addiction

Art by Jover

 

Addiction

.

The uncaring night will take me

And oppress me with its heat.

Leave me wide-eyed and sleepless

In a tangle of tortured sheets.

.

Since you became my addiction

I have wanted no one else.

Only to see you dance before me

I have longed for nothing else.

.

The over bright dawn will find me

And burden me with its hope.

Leave me confused and restless

Tied up tightly in my own rope.

.

Since you became my addiction

I have wanted no one else.

Only to see you dance before me

I have longed for nothing else.

.

The relentless day will trap me

And unsight me with its glare.

Leave me wandering and helpless

Your distance has stripped me bare.

.

Since you became my addiction

I have wanted no one else.

Only to see you dance before me

I have longed for nothing else.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Loui Jover

Regular readers will recognise this. It was written and recorded some years ago, yet sometimes it seems to have enough resonance to bear another posting.

 
10 Comments

Posted by on March 23, 2015 in D/s, Erotica, Poetry

 

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I am not a holy man

In the half light

 

I am not a holy man.

But I will touch your brow

as you kneel before me.

I will whisper a prayer

to your beauty

and your body.

 

I am not a holy man.

But I will hear your confession

in the sacred darkness.

I will sing a hymn

to your sweet heart

and submissive soul.

 

I am not a holy man.

But I will place my hands upon you

and anoint you with oil.

I will bless the moment

of your conversion

that carried you

here to me.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Anne Magill

 
15 Comments

Posted by on March 19, 2015 in D/s, Poetry

 

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As he will

Submission

She barely understands it.

It is a desire to serve.

A hunger to yield, to bend, to give, to allow herself to be controlled.

A need to submit, To comply, to assent, to acquiesce.  It is an itch, an ache, a yearning.

She is compelled by some deep inner want, some unfathomable need. some almost primal desire to yield up her submission.

To render up all her power.

She has craved such wondrous, glorious authority over her for as long as she can remember. Before the budding of her breasts, before the flow of blood, before passion, before the longing between her thighs.

Yet it could never be anyone.  It had to be him.  It always had to be him.

She has waited forever for his presence. For his strength, his certainty, his discipline, his protection.

For him to do with her as he will.

Mind, body and soul.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Photo stolen from emotional artists 

I wrote this two years ago.  I have allowed it another airing. This time with audio

 
20 Comments

Posted by on March 18, 2015 in D/s

 

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We touched

Fabian_Perez_Monica_and_Fabian_II

We touched

You and I.

A flicker, a spark, a shiver, a frisson.

A whisper, an echo, a reverberation.

A sigh.

A soft breeze rustling leaves.

A faint ripple across still water.

A barely heard song from somewhere distant.

A recognition, a connection, an association.

An awareness.

A subtle, almost imperceptible shift in each other’s personal universe.

We touched

You and I.

And now

We are forever changed.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Fabian Perez

 

 
19 Comments

Posted by on March 16, 2015 in Still Life

 

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Blue Room

in_blue_room_by_barbaralanza

Here

In this blue room

With black and white, steel-framed photographs of the sea. And paintings of Venice. And of dancers.

Where my ancient acoustic guitar waits quietly on her stand

Where I tap tenderly at this keyboard with its reassuring sound.

Here

In this blue room

Where I have spilled my dreams and realities onto white digital pages. And exchanged words with distant lovers.

And whispered profane prayers and dark instructions

Into the inky night.

Here

In this blue room

I wait for her.

She will come.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Photo/art by Barbara Lanza

 

 
5 Comments

Posted by on March 15, 2015 in Still Life

 

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