Tag Archives: sensual

Glass Heart

I am an  imperfect man.
and she has a beautiful perfect
transparent heart
of which she lets me
hold in my rough hands.

Her heart is warm to the touch
never cold, for inside of it
it's full of fire, a fervor for life
I see burning bright, for her heart
is made of the most pristine glass
I see through it clearly
to the flickering flames within
that dance and dance
always before my eyes.

Yet I am flawed, and my
seeing leaves me sometimes blind
at the warmth and wonder of
her heart I hold in my hands.

I wish her heart to never break
nor the one to be the cause of
the breaking.

I hold it delicately lest to crush it,
yet not too firmly for it to slip
from my hands
I hold it with a willful assurance of self
as I marvel at the magical
glow that pervades from

Her glass heart is stronger than it
seems, more than she even knows.
Tougher than any Titans mighty
blows could wrought asunder.

Her glass heart's unwavering
mesmerizes my eyes, for it is true,
so very true straight to
it's core.
and beckons for me to hold it
for all the rest of my days.

by Philip Wardlow , August 31st, 2022

Phrases just for Her

You can only look at her and get tongue tied
as your mind
gets mangled
That girl over there in that short skirt
wearing those black
thigh highs and garters, along
with sharp heels that could most definitely hurt.

Oh, and when she smiles,
simply sexadorable.
A storm walking, dream of a nightmare on the prowl.
The sensuosity
she exudes, the magicalicious
way she crosses the room.

It’s not fair I tell you.
No simple mortal stands a chance.
For they are all in thrall.
Pupils dilated to drink her in.
Lips wetted just in case of a kiss

Let’s not forget,
her charmtrap of a stare,
dark eyes that scream you fucking
better be aware
Because I’m here,
“I’m always on when I’m out, and you
look pretty cute,”
she almost seems to whisper
just to you.
Even though you are nowhere near her in
the room.

She’s got a confoundous amount of play
in what that grin directed
might say,
“Hey, I spy with my little eye,
a guy I might let take me for a little drive tonight.
but oh,
does he even have the key, let alone the gas
to get me there where I need to be?”

I jingle my keys as the
bojangle in me wants to bodangle
with you in so many delicious

I take your hand and lead you
home, climb the stairs,
and close the door.
The stars are forgotten
as the man in the moon seeks
to peek in my room to learn a
thing or two of what
I am about to do to you and
for you.

by Philip Wardlow 2017

Savage Meeting

You drive me to want to look you in the eye with a primal challenge when  meeting you for the first time across the dark forest floor in the dead of night.

Your body bathed in the meager light of a crescent moon, wrapping around your delicate frame, yet I sense there is nothing delicate about you.

The cold doesn’t quite touch you fully. The night entreats your presence…you belong here…you have always belonged here.

The night is a comfort to me as well, my senses  focused. You shine  in the meager light. I see a nobility in you, a raw wildness , pure in its essence distilled before me , running like a river as you stand there.

Laying down on our backs naked on the ground,  shoulder to shoulder,  all senses attuned, to the night, to ourselves,
to each other…

Nothing needs to be said as we are wrapped in the comfort of it all.

I smell you , almost most tasting you with the tip of my tongue, from deep in your core, it calls.

I don’t ask as I force your legs open and take what’s mine now and forever as you look at the stars above as a cool wind hardens your nipples to points in the night air.

I will never surrender your body pleasures until you shudder and explode within my grasp, until you are sated fully and surrender them to me..

I want more of you this night …bite me, claw me, lose yourself in the nature of me, my wildness for you is pure and freely given.

You have me in full as my nature demands it , I please you while you do the same…leaving you spent and sore,  scratched by the forest floor with its branches and rocks cutting us as we take each other in good measure.

In the end, we look to be half feral, at the end I shall give you your first kiss as I will truly know you then in truth.


by Philip Wardlow 2017

Taken – an Erotic Poem

Taken –
In silent repose in bedtaken
she read.
Night enshrouded her.
Eyes heavy from the day
as sleep was soon to come.
A creaking of the stairs
revealed of his approach
A small kiss goodnight
then to leave again as always…alas
Book put aside as he entered,
his handsome rugged smile
found hers as he approached
A light kiss on full lips
along with his lingering cologne
clinging to his pores
caused her to sigh inside.
Light kiss turned to an insistence
pressure as a rough hand found
her breast…squeezing hard in intention.
Blankets flung back,
quick hands grabbed at panties
pulling them down thighs, to calves
to feet, then off in a flick.
Dark brown eyes dilated to drink her
in like a heady red wine.
Strong hands grabbed at knees forcing
legs open wide,
asking for no permission.
Head dove between thighs
sweetly kissing her other lips.
She bucked and thrashed as
his attentions below
had taken her well in hand.
The dance with tongue so delicate and
He grabbed both her arms by the wrist,
holding them tight at her sides to calm
the body that could not resist
the rising within.
She rode on wave after wave,
with each successive one ever higher.
His ardor had risen complete as his
hardness moved up her thighs
pressing, wanting a deep kiss of its
His eyes found hers as he
entered, sliding into her tight wetness
They moaned in unison at the shared
pleasure as he filled her with him.
Time evaporated for the next
minutes or hours as he owned her.
He was denied nothing as he took
her savagely, pushing and pulling
himself into her.
Biting a shoulder, or her neck, enveloping
a breast with his mouth.
No part of her body was left untouched.
In this instant he lived within her body
This was his domicile to come and go as
he wished.
And she welcomed it all…
by Philip Wardlow 2014