An attempt at a Shakespearean sonnet, with non Shakespearean subject matter...or perhaps it is what Shakespeare might have written if propriety didn't intervene?
Given this moment, again and again
my bliss would show through, a gleam in my eyes.
And upon my heart, would be stamped your reign
Into your haven, my heaven,'tween your thighs
Fists clenching, gripping, holding me there
your moans reverse echos, stronger by repetition
The writhing and moaning, gripping of my hair
serves to nourish, to feed my youthful passion.
The fires need no stoking, 'tis not a simple ember
for You invite, excite, and entice me
with ev'ry soft touch or breathless whisper
with every moment shared, you possess me
Do what you will, my will is yours now
what a whisper requests, my body will allow.