Foreplay
She tilts her head back knowingly,
awaiting his caress,
and eyes his fingers glowingly,
desire to express.
She inches forward proffering
her nape for tender touch,
her body writhing, offering
the charms he loves so much.
His musky scent intoxicates;
she moans in ecstasy.
Her warmth upon him radiates
her physicality.
He blows a whisper in her ear
while tickling at her chin.
Her shiver at his voice so near
brings on a knowing grin.
He gently carries her to bed,
turns off the hallway light.
He pats her on her silky head,
then bids his cat good night.
A Light Touch
She chooses from her sexy lingerie
A filmy, lacy number just for him.
She slips it on, the essence of risqué,
And slides into their bed; the lights grow dim.
Her husband‘s hands explore beneath the sheets,
His palms descending with increasing verve.
She now begins to shiver as she greets
His glancing touch, exciting every nerve.
The softest moan beseeches from her lips
as searching fingers further down then drop
And brush along her tantalizing hips. …
He stops. She pleads, “Oh, honey, please don’t stop!
Hey, why’d you quit?”, her voice a puzzled note.
His calm reply: “I found it … the remote.”
John Foster was appointed a National Poetry Judge in 2013 by the National Federation of State Poetry Societies. As a member of the Florida State Poetry Association, he is a frequent presenter of workshops at FSPA conventions. He has authored four collections of verse, the last, A Gesture of Words—Poetry Forms and Formulas, receiving the endorsement of Peter Meinke, Poet Laureate of Florida. He is the Founder and President of the Southshore Poets in Hillsborough County, Florida.