Old poems I found while scrounging around my various boxes, file folders, and so on and so forth. Here is, the first edition of...
Not Just Fools Gold
Pt. 1:
Man of My Dreams
I sit here weary and waning,
afraid of all I'm not gaining,
waiting to be swept off my feet,
to be taken on that once-upon-a-time
forever-neverland
trick-or-treat.
Give me Hell's Night,
a bottle of cheap wine, some hash,
and a good fight,
but promise not to leave my side,
because it's you who forces me
to ignore the pull of the tide
and stop the hiding inside.
It's sunny and sweet
anywhere we meet -
a treat,
a magical feat,
a sensuous affair.
Oh boy, it'll take us somewhere.
And "over the rainbow" and all that jazz, too.
God, I want someone just like you –
someone who'll tame my wild beast,
deal with my torturous heat,
keep me from defeat,
give me perpetual twilight,
tickle me where no one can see,
be everything and everyone to me.
copyright 2007 Katherine Andrews
Pt. 2
What We Got
You excite,
take me to the edge of delight,
then you tease and tantalize.
I try to devise
some fancy plot or scheme
to bring me to our dream.
I hold my breath, cross my fingers,
to countless gods I pray,
still, there are not the dazzling colors
exploding, only the in-between
of gray.
Surrounded by a haze,
I wait for days
to be lifted to that highest of heights,
to get that mystical, magical invite,
to get rid of my demons, to exorcise,
but, mostly, for you and me to be realized --
to be that perfect team
built of fire and steam.
Down, down, I lay,
dreaming of sex and the San Francisco bay,
waiting for the touch that will raise
me to that state of crazed
quivering,
where you are delivering
such delight, mixed with just
a tinge of fright
as you send an electrical current through
the nerves of each and every
of my erogenous zones,
and with such skill, such subtlety,
such size.
You are my prize.
The joy may be fleeting,
like our meetings,
quick and pure,
but oh, so much more.
This fantasy of mine may seem
the stuff of smoke and steam,
but you much more than exceed
the silliest of my daydreams.
You bring me to the brink,
play with me, wink,
then you take me beyond and above,
fill me with laughter, light, love.
Then I lay panting and flushed,
but never rushed,
in the cradle of your arms,
languishing in your charms.
You hold me tight,
god, how you excite.
I love the way take me to the edge of delight,
hold me there, poised on the brink,
then you take me all the way,
until I sink
into a moment of purity and calm,
our hands entwined -- palm in palm.
You, you are so much more than all the rest –
the best of the best.
Even when we plot and scheme,
what we got is the stuff of dreams.
copyright 2006 Katherine Andrews
Pt. 3
I Miss
I miss wading in ponds
and the feeling
of power
when slicing a canoe oar
through anything with
true current.
I miss
my incredible strength
and wrapping my legs
around your back
so hard, so hungry,
I was afraid
I would break it and
the grip of a muscle
so unrelenting
it would put any beasts jaws to shame.
I miss
being able to give you
little useless bits and pieces,
scraps of paper
so meaningful and yet so ridiculous
they seemed to reek.
I miss
you rushing onto the porch
so that I would be the first
to hear your secrets,
and you,
always the first to greet me,
as is if there were some
invisible race
to see who could reach me
first.
I miss
melting.
Your arms were so hot
my every pore and nerve ending
got soaked with a heat that
turned everything in its path
to molten-golden lava-like liquid
emotion,
interference.
All these things,
all this
and so much more,
Somehow I find myself
exploring each day.
I take from it
what I will.
All this and
so much more,
I miss.
I want.
copyright 2006 Katherine Andrews
***AUDIO ON ITS WAY!!!***
