It was a somewhat dark and dismal
day,
But my Jeanne had invited me out to play.
At first we sat and breakfast ate,
Then out to the parking lot to continue our date.
She drove us down to Harry P. Leu,
In her neat white Olds, it's almost new.
The seats are red and velveteen,
So comfy and soft, like peaches and cream.
I looked and gazed upon her face,
Thinking about our whirlwind pace.
Beside this lovely pixie of mine,
The bells of my heart began to chime.
We pulled up to the parking lot,
Chilly it was, her sweater forgot.
The gatesman tried his level best,
To turn us away from our lover's quest.
But to the man, we paid our fee,
Off to explore, and flowers to see.
We went to decipher the weathered stone,
Peaceful they were and all alone.
We saw the story etched on graves,
These children never lived to misbehave,
When we spied the house, down by the lake,
Our dreams were wild, plans to make.
Then we sauntered down the path,
More to see, we'd seen not half.
Stopped to hear her tell a story,
Noticed her hair, what golden glory!
Then to my surprise, out in the
lake,
Watched the naughty fishes, bubbles make.
Up the hill, she crossed the creek,
I wanted more kisses, to plant on her cheek.
We ambled along, arm-in-arm,
Captured the twinkle, like a charm.
Then the native plants we viewed,
My heart was full, with love imbued.
Now this saucy woman so dear,
Walked to the bench, “Let's stop here.”
We turned and caused our lips to meet,
The day was forgot, we're finally complete.
She gazed at me with a quizzical
glance,
Anxious to discover an afternoon's romance.
I pulled her to me, sampled her lips,
Moved my hand to caress those hips.
I felt the fire race though my
soul,
I nibbled her neck, her heart my goal.
We continued like this for quite a while,
My heart was beating like I'd run a mile.
Then the afternoon, tempted this
wench,
Climbed up to perch, on the wooden bench.
When she turned, I was so excited,
Into her breasts so skillfully invited!
Ah, the wonders I discovered
there,
I felt the mounds and itched to bare,
The lovely breasts with nipples so pert,
I kissed and sucked, and bit and hurt.
I excited her, she, inflamed me,
I wanted to drop upon my knee.
But Jeanne took the game in stride,
Opened her legs, massaged with pride.
My, would wonders never cease,
I felt the mound, detected the crease.
She looked at me with burning eyes,
Glancing around, we're alone, what a surprise!
She finally dropped from her lofty
perch,
In my shorts, I felt my manhood lurch.
We kissed some more to cool our ardor,
She pleasured me so, I was getting harder.
Took our leave of this delightful
place,
Walked a new route our path to trace.
We chanced upon a long white car,
Waiting for newlyweds, to take afar.
Ensconsed upon a likely seat,
Needed to sit, to cool this heat.
She leaned forward to offer her shoulder,
I began to rub, my hands got bolder.
We relaxed there, among the roses,
Watched the wedding guests, in photo poses.
Then they joined the love-crossed pair,
The smell of love wafted upon the air.
We walked and looked at petals
soft,
Smelled the perfume as it arose aloft.
Finally back to attended gate,
Time to find the restrooms, it's almost too late!
Jeanne took me off on a trip to
Sears,
She was back on earth, no joyful tears.
Amid the colors of such delirium,
She chose a rare and delicate anthurium.
Off we went to find my steed,
It was quite a day, we both agreed.
Off she went after we last kissed,
I started home, but my glasses I missed.
Raced to catch her speeding car,
I see her ahead, gadzooks, it's far!
I caught her finally on a busy street,
To hot for this, in the Florida heat!
She turned and parked in a new
built place,
Out we jumped, one last embrace,
Now, we really have to quit,
Our lips apart, her neck I bit.
Now it's Monday, back to the
grind,
Our love to simmer, our hearts to bind,
When she toils, by friend Mary,
A secret smile, on her lips will tarry.
When she comes to home for lunch,
I'll offer to her, these words to munch,
And if this comely love of mine,
Laughs, and cries, oh how sublime!
Written for Jeanne, By Dale E. Malone 3/27/89 - Dedicated to our blossoming wonder in each other.
Written by Dale E. Malone, Was
I smitten?
The Great & Wonderful Kahuna wants to know!
Last
modified: April 26, 2009