LUSHLY WE SHIVER DOWN
by David Hunter
thunderpoet@hotmail.com

Lushly we shiver down
Pearlescently shimmering
silvery glittery nipples glinting
bobbing abreast the Japanese pond
footbridge coyly arching
wooden steps pretending
to connect a tiny island
with the main

Whilst we drink the midnight tea
rippling through our pulsing loins
youth gushes giddily to our
golden genitals dangling
engorged with anticipation
Yin yearning for Yang
In wanting out
Out wanting in
Nipples rising
rivulets ringing
moon crescents,
breast globes suspended
in magic
that night
when we giggled to find
the Japanese garden
beckoning us out of our garments
hardening me even as I skinnied to dip
Waiting for your eyes to adjust in the moon
and receive my proud offering

Erect
so stiffly
this unquenchable thirst
drives my steel-veined thick straw to drain
the mead from your wet, engorged goblet
hidden just inside
the tufted savory cleft

Each heart racing into the mudfooted depths
Plunging dark wetness
membranous glans eyes
you Girl of Wonder
feverishly dictating
where he hopes to head,
hungering to consume the
When and How he would arrive
In what sweet blood pumped
delicious depth he would
squirm and plumb,
stirring the sides of the honeyed pot
scraping the bottom for the last morsel
thighs firmly wrapped waistward
vaunting above the water
dipping down again
Copulatory bliss
understanding the kiss
only completes the body ring
mouth to mouth makes the circuit
Pulsed electric flows the path
as Koi fish nibble at
our swollen delicacies
floating Passion Fruit
at ripeness peaked

Surely we are to be suckled
in the prime
in a pond after midnight
a once lust
lost in time

>From years away I hear
the sweet
raspy
gutteral cry in your
silvery throat, girl,
and ache
oh, do I cry in my soul

So, as I now say
Think first, my young pretty
Keep it for yourself,
His will not turn blue
and fall away

Inwardly I groan
and swim back in time
where the boy waits trembling
at the chill waters edge
under an implacable moon
waiting for the girl
who now cautions children of her own

by David Hunter
thunderpoet@hotmail.com