Your beauty by Philip Wardlow
Tag Archives: beautiful
Tenacity
Landscapes of You
Landscapes of You
As I rise at dawn
and look out upon this landscape
It’s got nothing on you babe.
The mountains can’t touch your heights which I climb
In the morning light and the fertile valley
below is where I’ll go to set up my campfire
and have a weeny roast every night.
Let me fall down hard against your snowy soft skin and make
snow angels with my tongue as I go deep in.
The rivers and streams that meander around me can’t
get any wetter than your bed as I lie at your shore .
Maybe I’ll take a swim in your deep lake and paddle
down to the waterfall where I hear it’s a gusher.
The pinks and reds that I bring out in your cheeks and lips
as you gyrate those hips below
stir the four winds to blow
me away off this wind swept peak
that I cling to with barely a fingertip.
I’ve packed lots of rations, trail mix, water and
peanut butter cups to keep my energy up.
My hike is not over by far, because I’ve got many trails to cover.
I can’t leave any one spot untouched or ignored,
The beauty of this mysterious place I call
paradise must be explored.
The smell of clover and dandelions pervade my senses
as I drink your sweet scent in.
The nearness of you is nature in its most erotic essence
bottled in the pores of
your skin.
By Philip Wardlow
Blue light special
It’s okay to try and sell yourself
buts its ridiculous to put a spinning blue light on your head
while sitting in the middle of the bar…
by Philip Wardlow 2016
Her – A poem
Her ~
Her nature is fluid
a whisper
a scream
a jest
A consistent wanting
ever disguised.
How to cope with her?
Ha!
Now that is a trick question!
You do not cope.
You do not endure.
You do not wish.
Simply be,
like a kite in the wind
letting your tail be your anchor
as the breeze blows,
keeping you aloft.
Floating upon her currents.
You fly…
higher
and higher.
Never questioning
why
as you just enjoy the ride.
by Philip Wardlow 2015
Beauty defined
Beauty Defined ~
If you were to ask me to define what beauty is, I would first pause in my thinking, lose focus to the world and go inward and remember all the instances that touched….held me…..affected me….or drew me in where I had no choice but to be in that moment with it.
I then would ask you the same question and for you to go inward as well.
Then I would ask you of all the instances you remember and I would tell you of mine. And we would share them.
Then in that instant another beautiful moment would be born.
by Philip Wardlow 2015
She – a Poem
She ~
She’s beautiful… not oh, look at her pretty face I want to fuck her beautiful.
Of course I would in any angle and position I could put her in.
But beautiful like an explosion of all the senses that she touches in you.
From your heart to your hand which finds all her release points.
Her eyes that find yours across the room , wanting nothing else but to please…
She’s beautiful in the way that leads you to want to wrap around her like a blanket .
She’s an addiction, an affliction a contradiction at the apex of her attraction
She’s trouble.. oh so much trouble
but the good kind you want to unwind
and let spin and spin and spin
She is simply a connection, a puzzle piece,
that missing part that you didn’t know
was apparently needed
to make your soul complete.
By Philip Wardlow 2014
See Her – A Poem
See Her –
She sits in silent reflection
staring out a window she can’t see through,
wondering at the days of
misfortune the world has heaped upon her.
“I am pretty aren’t I”, she asks
Her hips have just the right amount of flare,
Her breasts are well rounded,
her eyes are deep and mysterious as the night
is long.
She can turn a phrase and engage in interesting conversation
just as well as the next.
So why, why, why…
Does “that guy” not see her.
Find interest,
or get her.
Perhaps she dwells too much in the shadows
they cast and not in her own
light.
by Philip Wardlow 2014
What a woman wants – A poem by Don Juan aka Me :)
What a Woman Wants
She walks on by in her tight skirt,
as my brown eyes drink her in and
I say to myself, so it begans.
She smiles and I smile back,
I say hello in a way so she knows that
she matters in this moment to me.
I’m in engaged in her form, her voice.
Her smell of cinnamon must surely
taste like her lips if I were to kiss them.
I make you laugh as I tell you you’re the
sweetest girl I‘ve ever met and that I might just have
to take you home and put you on my toast in the morning
instead of my blackberry jam.
Would I be too forward if I took you by the hand
and looked into your eyes and told you to trust
me with your whole heart as I wiped
away a tear from the tale you told
me of your last man.
You see, I see you.
I get you, I see your quirks,
I see your moods, I see your passions
and I’m right there baby
Right next to you and I’m
not going anywhere
Now come over here
and let me show you
what love is my
Dear.
by Philip Wardlow 2012
Her Body – A poem by Philip Wardlow
Her Body
I noticed her body after her beguiling faced walked in.
It spoke and sang to me with a swaying of heavy hip action.
If only I could dial back my desire then the stars would align,
but the god given geometry wrapping around that frame
would make a chaste man wonder why he went insane
as he saw curves creating arcs upon arcs
intertwining to manifest into shapes
only nature could conceive.
In the lovely female form
there’s a weakness
in me because as she
walks across the room
I continue to gaze while my
rapture increases knowing her body is
hidden beneath thin layers that only deepen
the mystery of a softness that is surely there.
What if I were to simply let my hands wonder
where they wish to go, to peek lightly with
fingertips in a caress down her naked back
with all intent to travel on if my bold
desires permitted such an act.
I know my place, but she
will learn my charms,
she will see my face,
and look deep into
my eyes and
wonder if
tonight I
am her
fate.
By Philip Wardlow
