So many contemporary depictions of sex are crass, pornographic and over-idealistic, in novels and films. This poem attempts to be erotic, and at the same time, subtle.
Plump and pretty, crowned with surprise;
beautiful your buttons, delightfully they rise,
gravity un-defied, our bodies slightly battered,
tired limbs entangled, hearts somewhat tattered.
Fumbling blind in your hinge-opened thighs,
slow foraging fingers, sleep-sensual eyes;
purse-clasp open, pressed pussy-willow tip:
rhythmic spasms whip your shapely hips.
My crooked warm wonder shows little indecision,
bare bishop-head smooth, piston-like precision,
sunken to hilt, my sword sinks to inner core,
ecstatic neurons sing but tendons slightly sore.
Silent bodies bump, deep in understanding,
mutual submission, romantic that *commanding,
long covenanted couple, deep our strong roots,
bedded, blessed and bared, sweet shared fruit.
* Sexual drives are strong, but marriage is strong enough to contain them and provide for a balanced and fulfilling sexual life in a world of sexual disorder. The marriage bed must be a place of mutuality—the husband seeking to satisfy his wife, the wife seeking to satisfy her husband…1 Corinthians 7: 2 & 3
“The Song of Songs” – woodcut by Eric Gill, 1925