Rhyming in my head,
As I walk the avenue.
Strangers in my eyes,
But clear visions of you.
Stringing phrases together,
To try and describe your look.
Angelic verses,
That would fill an entire book.

I’m a poet in the streets,
And a lover in your sheets.
My words are insufficient,
To satisfy your heats.
I’ll let my hands do the work,
And give my tongue a try.
My stanzas grab your attention,
But motions satisfy.

Writing as I walk,
Down this country lane.
Your eyes tend to inspire,
Another loving refrain.
I can’t wait to see you,
To put away my pen.
I’ll write the legend of your curves,
Dreaming of you again.

I’m a poet in the streets,
And your master in the sheets.
I’ll bring you to the brink,
And grin as you complete.
Whisper my song in your ear,
The one that you love best.
I’ll speak between your legs,
Before I end at your chest.

Love me in rhythms,
And wrap me in your sheets,
Use me all night,
Then abandon me to the streets.
My words go ‘round,
Like the ticking of a clock.
Show me your desires,
And stroke my writer’s block.

Jotting down some lines,
As I walk the boulevard.
Thoughts of your shape,
Aren’t easy to discard.
Writing the song of last night,
And all our guilty pleasures.
So many moans and screams,
So many musical measures.

I’m a poet in the streets,
And your servant in your sheets.
Drain me of my desires,
And don’t leave me til I’m replete.
Undress me with your lips,
Leave me wanting more.
Scream as we destroy the bed,
And finish on the floor.



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