Mr. Casanova

Spur of the moment poem.

No one can predict when or how he will hit.

Only fatal wounds does he permit himself to commit.

How can I stand strong against this velvet bandit?

I squirm in his grip but all that remains is to submit.


My knees buckle, overwhelmed by his charms, I waver.

He sets my skin ablaze, a high fever quickly takes over.

The embrace leaves me craving more of his scent and flavor.

His presence is intoxicating, his whole body I must savor.


With but one swift move, my heart is stolen.

His starlit eyes draw me closer despite all reason.

With remarkable ease he makes my heartbeat quicken.

One touch of his lips releases me from this miserable prison.


Every word he whispers makes me float like a feather.

In his honesty my broken heart finally finds shelter.

His kindness shields me from the worst of weather.

I deeply cherish every second we spend together.

The End

1 comment about this poem Feed