Winter Is For Lovers

November,
and Iím drunk on sunshine,
giddy in heat and lust,
in maybe the last
hot flash of my youth.


Autumn turns snow.
You whisper,
ďLetís curl up together
in a warm bed
and listen to blues.Ē
So we slide
between satin sheets
under velvet covers
the color of warm brown eyes.


You are why I love winter
latticed on the landscape
in geometric sparkles
spread in white feathered layers
outside our bare window
with wintery immodesty.



You, who growl
like a huge, grumpy bear,
feigning sleep,
until I stroke the soft fur
of your bronzed chest,
shooting desire through
your backbone,
sharp as the trumpet
wailing softly,
piercing sweet.


You sing love words in my head
words Iíve spoken to you.
We dance a mariachi,
enticed by desire,
tangled now in satin sheets
touching you,touching me,
like a gentle, tender caress.


You, who,
when I touch you,
become woman-sculpted,
uncovered beauty,
nightís standing flesh,
a soft warm rain
running wild on a
bare canvas of love.


My other half,
you reflect a mirror image
of how I feel,
while winter sits, a lady,
in glazed crinoline gown.
Her velvet skirt of snow
hiding spring beneath it.


Here though, Dear One,
hearts singing, we touch.
You are a rain of starfire
across my dark heaven.
Between us blooms the
dusky aroma of passion,
tangy, pungent, keen.
Kiss me. Taste us.
Just hold on, Love.


Love, Jody