She rode upon a midnight star and fell
to earth not very far from where I laid
awake and wondering when the time
would come to feel and taste
the bosom of a woman
I was but 17 years and she was in
her 21st when chance we should meet on
asphalt screeching roaring engines leathers
black with chains on wellington boots
from a ghost rider from the past
Her wind blown long auburn hair and
tempest deep green eyes shone like stars of
distant glow and blew sweet sounds that only Zeus
and Thor could hear while walking on thunderous clouds
Her aqua line neck of white met her rounded breasts
and succulent rose tipped ends that left me breathless as her
heart heaved beneath this wondrous sight
I was so young and panting like a puppy dog when
first I saw this maiden fair and lusting to squeeze close
to me and feel my machine underneath the
roar of Harley horsepower and speed
She took me in her arms and pulled me close to her
warmth and felt my Levi blue on hers as two young lovers
swooned and felt the passion beneath each others
lips and trembling breath
This Margaret of the night who possessed my soul
with careful words and whispered her desires for me
and how she wanted my virginity to be hers and conquered
by such femme of beauty delight this boy
becoming a man squirmed with delight
In hidden places she was the teacher and so skillful
was she at her craft with sack dress lifted high gently
sitting on me close like pets in heat we were both challenged
by each others endurance into the late hours of the
night’s moon we were silhouetted lovers
This Margaret of the night possessed my boyhood
jewel tempted and twisted me like a vine around her grape
so sweet as she undressed me at her will she drunk and did
such things to me that burned a sweating passion
within my very soul
I longed to have her night and day until one day she
tired of teaching me her ways and told me I was ripe and
ready to move on and find another lady of my dreams
I watched as she melted away into my milky way spent and
tired I fell into a deep sleep awakened
not a boy but a Man
© Copyright Vincent Moore 2010. All Rights Reserved.
Heated passion from a young man’s thoughts. A woman that will never be forgotten, but etched into a man’s memory. Beautiful and steamy!
Thank you for your lovely poetic comment. Your absolutely correct she was etched into my memory. An experience as a young man who was taught well by this lady. We were both very much in love and wrapped into each others lives for a space in time.
Oh my word! What a mind-blowing experience this must have been – a fantasy realized. Your words are so well chosen, Vincent, the poem crystallizes in my head like a scene in a movie. And now I need a walk in my garden….
I am singing ‘Mrs Robinson’ as I re-read this powerhouse of a passionate read, dear sir! I am quite sure you learned your lessons well in this ‘once in a lifetime experience’, as your visual imagery brings the reader to that place and time. As such, I will be needing to freshen up ‘stat’! Have a lovely day and what a beautiful website! Brava– love the name. Hugs, Maria
Martie indeed a fantasy realized. Heck go for a walk in your garden, it will give you some fresh thoughts and new ideas as well.This was quite an experience for me MY FIRST and I so much enjoyed her and experience she was able to caress me with.
Ah yes indeed Mrs Robinson episode for sure, although she wasn’t quite that old:-) She taught me things that would make my toes curl and that they did. I am grateful that she came into my life when she did. We rode well together and she enjoyed my motorcycle very much. So you like the site, well thank you my friend. It”s definitely a work in progress and I intend to do keep adding to it and place all my work here. Hugs