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Several short love poems. Most have no title, and were written on the spur of the moment.

Short Love Poems
By Donovan Baldwin

Strong strokes,
Gentle brushes,
Squeeze the tubes,
Pour out the goodness,
Smear the colors,
Mix them well,
My true love and I
Paint pretty pictures,
Lovers in intimate pose,
Wrapped only in each other,
Flesh tones the hue we choose,
As we brush and stroke each other.



Pleasure?
I'm all for it!
My pleasure?
Watching you,
As you realize how loved you are,
How free you are
To take,
To give,
To be...
Loved,
And love yourself,
As my eyes caress and treasure,
The dearness of you,
Body, heart, and soul,
Taking wing on skies of joy!
Pleasure?
Please!



What is death?

But a word,
A moment to be passed,
Like all the others,
Yet, unlike,
Once passed,
Not looked back on,
Reviewed, worried over,
Regretted.

Passed and past,
Death goes by,
Does not last,
Yet IS the last.
Problematic but no problem.

Death?
But a word.

The End.



If you and I were a love story,
Only adults would be allowed would read us.
Librarians would raise their eyebrows,
When someone checked us out.
Mothers would pull their children away,
From our bookstore display.
And we wouldn't give a damn,
Because we would be in a daily heaven.



Sweet fountain from which flows,
Her sweetest nectar,
Filling more than mere desire.
A sharing of the most personal
Flowing of body and soul,
Fluid of love, taken in a moment
Of desire and intense pleasure,
Pleasing to both she who pours,
And he who drinks so deeply.



Not so quiet happenings,
In the dimly lit room
Where sight means less
Than the touch...
The taste...
The sigh...
The moan...
Whispers of desire,
Expectations and excitement,
As two explore the height
Of passion, coming together,
For enterings and kisses,
Open love
For both.



In orbit around you,
I circle amid the stars,
Somewhere beyond the moon,
As far away from earthbound
Cares and thoughts as
A lonesome traveler lost
In time and space,
Yet sure in love,
As I watch over you,
The center of my universe.



Morning light,
Pushing out the stars,
Painting over the dark sky,
With oranges and blues,
And leaves on trees,
Calling "Fall!!!",
Littering the ground,
A yellow carpet,
And, all around,
Your face, your words,
You, my part of every season,
With me at each new dawn.



I've kissed you, you know.
I've felt your warm lips,
Yielding to mine,
Not in surrender,
But in welcome.

I've kissed you, you know,
And, you've returned
Each one better
Than I gave.

I've kissed you, you know,
In countless dreams,
Preparing for
That first real kiss...
And ecstasy.



Why cannot we be free
To be the children of Eden,
Free and naked in our beliefs,
Our shared joys and pleasures,
Aware of everything and everyone,
Seeing the natural beauty of this world,
Sharing it all, each moment and event,
Each feeling...
Especially bound to one another?



It was my first sight of your mind,
The sway and curve of your thoughts,
The seductive allure of your words,
That claimed my attention,
Fanned my desire to have you,
And made me wonder,
If I might kiss you,
Hold your hand,
Make love to you,
And listen to your heart.




Yes. Mature woman, not a girl any more.
The curves of the body are different,
As are the curves of her mind,
More interesting, complex,
More desirable to know,
To explore and learn
As is the body.
Yes. Mature.
Woman.

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Short Love Poems by Donovan Baldwin
Page Updated 8:13 PM Sunday 3 February 2019