Perfect Moments
It could have been a French Bistro, and our
faithful Steiner the maitre d’. One lush
tomato, two luscious steaks flavored with
pepper and brandy, and potatoes mashed
with garlic. (Too bad lunch must cry for wine
and hear no answer.) We two made for a
friendly crowd unto ourselves. Another
perfect moment of Now – a few kisses
washed down with filtered water – oh, did I
mention missing the wine? – parting words in
a language only you and I know. The
roughness of my hands cause crackles like spark
sounds as I slide them down your wool pants. A
promised future – parting, we wave kisses.
~ David
Garlic Kiss
The taste of garlic mingles in our kiss
and you smile a laugh in my direction.
Who needs wine for such simple pleasures as
we share, love? Not me. I relish the taste
of you, the way you look at me across
the table – breakfast, lunch, or late supper,
by candlelight or moon, day’s full sunshine
it matters not to me as long as you
and I share the time. Electricity
jumps between us, arching across the space
igniting the passion that curls below
the surface whenever you are near me.
Your hands slide along wool while I wrap my
arms around you for one more garlic kiss.
~ Siobhan
Poems Between Lovers 