This one smiles…

She’d had sex
mischievous fun
closeness and release
not always that good
things done before
not always wanted
expected to give in

This one smiles
looks into her eyes
knows where to touch
for how long and let go
catches her with silence
asks nothing of her yet
she tells him everything

Things she didn’t see
he doesn’t tell yet shows
her body curved to his
no lead no follow bliss
how did she how did he
as if he knew she knew
they’d get to feel like this

Guest Blog Post – Featuring Eric Clarke

For a second week, Esther Chilton has kindly had me as a guest on her blog – this poem (quite long for me) sums up where my short poems come from…

estherchiltonblog

I hope you’ve had a good week. It’s now time for my guest post. If you’d like to feature as a guest on my blog, please get in touch. I’m looking for stories and non-fiction pieces of up to 1500 words and poems of up to 40 lines. If you can also send me a photo and a little bit about yourself too, that would be great. Please send them to estherchilton@gmail.com

Last week, my guest writer was Eric Clarke, with his poem England – Isolated Views. To read it, click here. And here’s another one from him for you to enjoy:

A Take On Poetry

By

Eric Clarke

Beaconsfield to Marylebone

Maidenhead to Paddington

Windsor to Waterloo

lines in, and out again

Exeter from all begun

Devon left, half century on

River Thames meandering

fields beside, counties bridged

Buckinghamshire, Berkshire views

English ways, getting there

London, underground…

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Throwback Friday – Not Forgot – Eric (EDC Writing)

A true story from a while ago I posted over at the Go Dog Go Cafe today…

Go Dog Go Café

Flash fiction from 2017; from a memory much further back than then:

He stands a foot from the wall, illuminated by strobe lit blobs and spheres, one hand in his pocket, the other holding a cold beer. 10 pm he’d guess, summer darkness outside lures moths to flight, rhythm finds his feet, yet too soon for moves. She takes to the floor, perfection, slight yet curved, green eyed blonde, focal point of his desire. No smile, yet politely declines the handsome, or just confident, dancing with her sister or maybe a friend. He buys a second beer, a small one, returns, his space still there a few metres from her presence. 11.30 pm checks his time, no chance, better men have tried, he moves. She turns to face his walk towards her, the beat slows, traces a smile, no words, her fingers behind his neck stroke him closer, his hands…

View original post 163 more words