baby poem

Timeless Classics

(Originally penned by the poet as a preteen)


oh, i…
think i…
feel that little tickle!

bowing my head
closing my eyes
i travel to that darkened room
all hung with tapestries of silken hair
and filled with the subtle scents of my body
there, i await the return of the tickler

there it is!
iridescent, it is before me
then within me
and my mind is embraced

a tide of pleasure ripples there
satisfying all my senses
ere they’ve even tarnished
by escaping my innocent soul

like the tides of the ocean
this tide shifts
changing and changing again
the golden pictures
played before my inner eye

quick! grab a pencil
watch the curves and bends it leaves
on blue lined paper
so familiar
so satisfying

this wooden tool
these empty strokes
are breathed to life by my possessor
as it had breathed
upon my own fleshly tool

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