Dinner At EightA Poem by Willard WellsVampire ContestA gentleman of the night hidden by shadows of light, fog shrouding his path....... Planning a light supper at eight.
She was a soft skinned beauty attracted to the night, walking between the flashes of light. Avoiding shadows near dark. Must not be late, dinners at eight.
Turn right at the corner, don't want to be late, dinners at eight.
Stopped on my journey by a gentleman this night. Looked into his dark eyes, I fall under his spell, following along.......Holding me close, a cold comfort I feel. Moving to the shadows, out of the light, to be alone with my new lover.
Gentle kisses on lips, a firm grip to my arm, squeezing me close. Then kisses along my bare shoulders, a small bite to my neck as my passion grows, I grow weak from his taste, but we're not late, dinner was at eight. © 2016 Willard WellsReviews
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Added on January 10, 2016Last Updated on January 10, 2016 AuthorWillard WellsSacramento, CAAboutPhotography and words are my activities to try and keep an over active mind under control. For the most part my pieces have been short since that's how I'm wired. I would like to write something longe.. more..Writing
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