| Touch by Chris Stafford | |
Softly, softer, warmth, warmer Arousing that certain destiny Forbidden yet allowed Controlled but uncontrollable Eventually melting Strength and gentleness combined Fingertips sensing, smells arousing Nerves awakening, passion growing Enveloping, aching The slightest touch caressing Reaching new depths Tenderness so fragile So delicate Softness flowing like curves in a river An unstoppable tide Demanding kisses and more Unfolding, sensuously, deliberately Helpless, yielding The first touch releasing. Copyright, Chris Stafford |
I was living in Australia at the time and sitting on the cliff overlooking Bondi Beach when this came to me. It was my first poem and I was encouraged to submit it for publication in an Anthology where it won an award :-)
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