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A Gift of Me

Is it a gift you’ve given me when you hold me tight,

Does pleasure enter your mind to make love tonight?

Or is it a need of your own to feel pleasure’s delight,

Sensations of joyful eroticism might feel just right,

 

To be held tightly in your arms is a pleasure indeed,

Be it thoughts of making love or of gifts to my need,

Let me take part with you in a sharing of sex I plead,

Your antics of erotic sensation awakens my speed,

 

To feel your lips electrifying my flesh awakens joy,

Placing me in such a state of mind that I am a boy,

And I give of myself to you as I gift myself as a toy,

I am yours, my love is eternal, I am yours to enjoy.

The end, by Pat for Patti. I love you


Love’s Multiplication

My twos of you are more plentiful than three of four,

My heart of one needs to be times five or even more,

Loving you can’t be quantified by numbers multiplied,

True love is significantly stronger than to be quantified,

 

Let us try it though, my legs run so my arms may hold,

My arms and legs are yours to be used preventing cold,

To keep you warm in winter I’ll do as needed in your care,

 

A poem or verse with a line or two in rhyme I will write,

I’ll add or multiply the number of lines or verses of night,

Night seems to be the time that’s correct for loving you,

If it would be a hundred lines more to sound sincere I’ll do,

 

My love grows so quickly in an hour I’m truly dismayed,

If only there was a counter that love could be displayed,

I doubt it could or should I say I doubt it would go so high,

To state the true reading of my love’s level it cannot deny,

 

My twos of you must be a billion or a trillion times more,

For each day for fifty years I’ve doubled the day before,

My rhyme though short contains my love so compressed,

My many heartbeats of I love you Patti I have expressed.

The end. I love you Patti! By Pat for Patti


Of Angels and You

When angels die I have often wondered what transpires,

Does an angel change or is there something she acquires,

I say she but I often think of he when of angels I speak,

Perhaps they are gender indifferent yet remain unique,

 

Angel’s tasks I’m sure are serving God and helping mankind,

I’ve wondered how and or why they help certain ill or blind,

Is it based on how much we pray or an inner belief of each,

Maybe a lottery system or is it all beyond our mental reach,

 

Angels are of heavenly creatures with unknown ability,

I say unknown but it could be as is needed a capability,

When of angels I speak I see beauty beyond what is norm,

I’ve never seen or thought of obese to be an angel’s form,

 

There’s so many things of physical form or angel’s shape,

Do they have a need to lose fat or to find a measuring tape,

I’ve wondered too why an angel’s eyes always seem blue,

But most of all and it’s true, every angel reminds me of you,

 

I so enjoy admiring you that my grandest fear is to go blind,

It’s true I do think of you when angels enter into my mind,

It’s a never ending thought process since angels are of you,

Since to me you are an angel angels get bonus thoughts too,

 

A correction of thought entered my mind about angel eyes,

Since you are them and they are you let green eyes arise,

I wake to the green eyed angel of morning sun every day,

I am a lucky Irishman to be loved by my angel in every way.

The end. By Pat for Patti
I love you my beautiful green eyed angel.


Burdens Within

oo often spoken words are uttered that should never be used,

Some words so dangerous in meaning that using means abused,

In a darkened mind that is blinded with pain and extreme confusion,

I’ve carried liver disease, heart and more, my comfort is a delusion,

 

When I find brightness of day it often dims to quickly fade away,

I don’t feel like crying, as crazy as I sound it’s self inflicted anyway,

The halo I knew now has my ankles much like shackles I once wore,

An undertow has pulled me down or is it a hold to even life’s score?

 

Place me upon a hill of life to review my past life perhaps in disgust,

The failings of me have escalated to erode my flesh as if steel’s rust,

I’ve handfuls of sins given me by military orders of placement here,

Disappointment in myself doesn’t offer much cleansing in a lone tear,

 

I’ve been chasing a better man for half a century or more it seems,

Upon a time I was a better man but bit by bit I tore apart my seams,

A soft melody written for me lifts my spirit from the tangles of a spell,

The ill wishes thrust upon me has cast me into the darkness of a well,

 

Once a happy cabaret of my own creation it became difficult to play,

Would you think me unkind to reveal my reality to ease tossing me away,

I am broken with no pathway of repair nor worth in the eyes of my peers,

To understand my non-worth is easily understood especially with jeers,

 

Allow the tears of absolution to flow down my aged face before I pass,

Let those that once loved me shed tears upon the deceased of no class,

Am I now sick from personal ill being inflicting my own guilt upon me,

Once I stood in light of direction but now even in light I can barely see.

The end, by Pat.


Most Cherished Thing

The most cherished thing I’ve known is to know your love,

So many descriptions flow through my mind that I think of,

Your kiss, your touch, your smile or the twinkle in your eyes,

Is love magic or is it only your love for me when time flies,

 

Happiness is a byproduct of loving you and in return you me,

I’ve sat in thoughts of loving you to express what I can’t see,

It’s impossible to see an emotion but possible to see a result,

I’m grateful to know loving you while a teenager or pre-adult,

 

Truly I believe teen love has sensations un-felt any other time,

A flame of burning teen love is intense beyond being sublime,

Prior to knowing love a teen’s sex drive is intense to beyond,

Sensations felt create intense desire to which sexes respond,

 

To have survived those times yet to cherish the time is more,

I remember each time I saw your preciousness aft and before,

Every word you spoke to me is cherished within my filled mind,

I cherish each sexual thought and memory as if a golden find,

 

How is it possible I’ve asked many times before about love,

Lovers must express their love by touching without the glove,

Impossibilities of finding love expressed by many too often,

Unfound love or love not found is emptiness I wish to soften,

 

I look at my life and realize it’s nonexistent without your love,

You loving me is the greatest of heaven’s gifts I will know of,

The intense fire with which you express love or love’s action,

Fills my mind, heart, and loins with desire’s need of traction,

 

I have a need closely paralleling addiction much like a drug,

To brush against your flesh ignites desire for if only a hug,

A teen love junky’s paradise would be you in a parked car,

This adult junky of your love can be found nearby, never far,

 

Love is on fire deep inside, love’s passion is aflame always,

Sweet felt desire is always mine and I’m blessed it stays,

You are the fire, the love, my desire and beyond the blue,

You are my reason to live, to survive, because I love you.

The end. By Pat for Patti


Brass Horns Play Sounds of Music

Pressures overwhelm me beyond what a man can bear,

Across the countryside an appearance of plastic is there,

Whenever I dream of you I feel growth within my anatomy,

I saw you in a dream as I tried to see all of you I could see,

 

Wish there was a way to pull you into my dream to go away,

Imagine the places and joys we would share, like yesterday,

Let’s play in a plastic land of makeshift landscape scenes,

Remember when we sat nude in my dream of we as teens?

 

Brass horns make sounds of music in my dreams of night,

Mystery woman clad in lace you are still a gorgeous sight,

Waltz tight against my loins as my thighs push into a sway,

Groin groans flow against my neck when it’s me I hear say,

 

“Whenever I dance with you I am afire with love for you,”

As my flesh presses flesh you respond with a sound too,

Love is flowing strong on the dance floor of brass horns,

Fading dreams of pleasure pierce my heart with thorns,

 

Horns of brass soften their sound fading into a final song,

As my heart feels a coming loneliness I pray that I’m wrong,

I try to express myself when I realize you are speaking too,

“I won’t leave love on the dance floor when I am with you.”

The end. By Pat for Patti written Oct/14/2020