Fever.

Just something more simple than I normally write.

His eyes pierced mine, sudden and still,

His fingers touching skin so tight,

His hands caressing my bossom strong,

His embrace so soft and fiercly tight.

 

I tremble at the glance to his face,

I crumble under his feverish passion,

I live for that singular explosion,

I surrender to him after a fashion.

 

We hold each other when mid force,

We dream of the quiet release to come,

We wish even hope to stay entwined,

We slave to our own emotions some.

Author's Note

Honesty!

Reviews

[Jack Isaac]

Begins with third person, nice. Addresses the first person next, and then first person plural... we. That says more than anyone knows, perhaps more than anyone wants to know, but this write says it well, and gloriously concludes in the last two lines.. that which is hoped and that which cannot be helped. Nicely done.

[Kenneth The Poet]

Passionate to the core.

[Tamia123]

Well this is a risky one.....but it turned out well! I enjoyed this one! Very much the quiet powerhouse :)

[Shelley Holt-Lowrey]

This is perhaps the most hones piece I've read of yours. Sensual, honest, clear, precise and right out there for all to see. Bravo!

[Cascara (aka Sprint Goe..]

i enjoy the passionate metaphor, especially with the title

[Ruth]

Has to be a favourite of your work love for me, for this tells such a passionate experience like a story condensed to poem :)
You always did make me smile honey xoxo

[Allan Eddings]

Passionate love, and its physical expression, has always reminded me of a feverish adoration beauty, beauty which must always be aching nigh. The title drew me for that reason, and the words and sentiment did not disappoint my expectations.

You have a lovely flow, it is not rushed but sensuous, an exploration of the sentiments and words not unlike a lover's hands and eyes do wander over the object of their affections. I enjoyed that immensely for it made me recall so many evenings that I have had, loves lost, found, that were never to be, and ones to come.

The final two lines appealed to me immensely for they indulge a thought that I am convinced is true. That beauty is unbearable, it drives us to despair, for it offers us a glimpse of eternity, an eternity that we would want to stretch out over the whole of time. Or so I have often mused in exhausted afterglow of passionate embrace. But then I do suppose I am too often given over to superfluous and irrelevant thoughts.

I shall stop my ramblings presently, I am sorry for them.

Thank you for sharing a lovely piece and please keep writing!

Regards,
A.E.

[Bidu Ibrahim]

Nice flow! Good job.

like the flow and rhyme scheme,

....sounds like a sad write to me.

[Gomer LePoet]

Is this a glance into the looking glass, reflections of the soul? I sense more here than simplistic rhyme!