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I Love It When She Starts to Respond

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I LOVE IT WHEN SHE STARTS TO RESPOND

Seven p.m.

and the sun

still streams

through my

window.

at least

it’s cooler now.

The writing

continues.

The day calls

for it,

and my muse

has actually

begun to respond.

It’s going to be

a good night.

Now, I Follow Her lead

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NOW, I FOLLOW HER LEAD

I’ve finally gotten old enough

to give in and get comfortable

with my own rhythm.

Actually, the truth is that

I’ve finally wised up enough

to listen to the voice of my lady.

When she wants to dance

I’m ready and waiting. When

she wants to play, I’m right here.

God, we’re having a grand time.

In the Groove

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IN THE GROOVE

It’s almost six p.m.

here in Jerusalem

and I’ve been writing

since ten. It’s

definitely time

for a break,

and even a bite

to eat.

A quick snack

at the Bagel Bite

on the corner

of Bethlehem

and Yehuda,

and I will be good

for at least

another eight.

A Fugitive at Rest

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A FUGITIVE AT REST

I’ve traveled far enough

to escape from myself,

even if only temporarily.

I know it’s not much,

but, at least for the moment

I can catch my breath,

swing my muse around

a time or two,

and thank my God

for the overwhelming joy

of pencil and paper.

For now, it’s enough.

She Keeps Me on the Edge

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SHE KEEPS ME ON THE EDGE

We’ve been playing footsy

this entire trip,

and both of us love it.

We’ve been together

long enough to know

exactly how far we can go

before having to back off

to catch

a creative breath or two.

It’s sensual as hell,

a dance we have practiced

for years, and one

that keeps us both

begging for more.

Both of us know our roles.

That’s the fun of it.

She teases. I beg.

And both of us stay

hot, horny and

hard at it.

Whirl me around one more time

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WHIRL ME AROUND ONE MORE TIME

Nine-thirty
and the words
are still coming.
The divine dance
hasn’t slowed,
and it’s obvious
she’s not going
to let go.
Neither am I.
So let the music
play on.
Drums and trumpets
do your thing.
We’re not going to stop
until my pen
runs dry.

Sweet Release

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SWEET RELEASE

There’s no time for foreplay.
There’s no fooling around.
The need is too great
and she knows it.
This morning, she gives me
exactly what I need, and
exactly how I need it.
Wham, bam,
thank you, Ma’am.
Words don’t flow
but gush
in an unstoppable flood,
pushed by pressure
far beyond containing.
Her touch is magic.
It’s been too long,
far too long,
since I allowed myself
the pleasure
of letting her
have her way.

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