Siren Whispers

Siren Song


Fuse to burning

With subtle suggestion

You have set the fuse to burning

I watch in anticipation as the distance separating us

Becomes ash

Gone in the whisper of this wind

The crackle of flame getting louder

As the span shortens

The impending blaze

Drawing the heat

And blush

To my pale skin

The countdown

To that yearned for touch

Has begun


©SirenSong1208 ~ 2017

Photograph taken from video still




Barricade of night


Within the barricade of night

I slip into your bones

And under your skin

Embracing your soul

With my tender touch.

Your dreams

Mine to dance through

My movements

For you alone.

The seductive pull

Of soft arms

And thrusting hips

Keep me on your lips

As dawn breaks

And I am gone

Without a trace.



Photograph taken from Pinterest

Leave a comment

Sea of whispers


A sea of whispers.

I let them wash over me.

Tide to sand.

Every new foray

leaving me breathless

and exhilarated

with the touch.

An ocean of desire

to drown in.

Depths that beckon

to be explored.


which catch

and beguile.

Whispering as loud to my soul

as the roar of the waves

crashing upon rock.



Photograph taken from Tumblr


Leave a comment

The strike of a match


Click here for audio

It’s the strike of a match

that signals the beginning.

Silent to all

but them

as it echoes

over the miles.

Fire starters with words

that nourish each other’s hungry souls.

Imagination becomes saturated

with desire-rich suggestion

that teases the senses

with the darkest of intent

becoming gasoline to tinder

as they erupt in flames

at the first touch.


Created and recorded for Whispering Neds on Twitter, a spoken word poetry prompt.


Photograph taken from Pinterest


Innocent droplets


The water slides down her skin

leaving behind a slippery, sensuous path.

Wet rivulets

following form

as she tilts her face up into the spray,

water gliding over her shoulders

droplets gathering on hardened nipples

while a cascade of water

slowly wends its way

down the smooth expanse of her back

along the curve of her arse

and lazily finds its way

to the curves and muscles of her thighs

gathering speed as it encompasses her calves

finally pooling about her polished toes.

It is a path that his eyes have traveled often.

Oh how he wishes to be those innocent droplets,

though his thoughts are hardly so.

His fingers itch

to touch, to stroke, to squeeze and pinch

followed always

by his lips and tongue

as she becomes wetter

but not from the water.



Artwork by Steve Hanks


Storm and serenity


The past is present

in every word that we say

and every touch that we give.

Our connection

is vibrant and electric,

an emotional thunderstorm

of storm and serenity

chaos and contentment

making us feel alive

within the embrace of the other.

Daylight tenderness

gives way

to fiery midnight passion

darkness illuminating our path to each other

where our dreams are the conduit

to touch

as our fantasies

are given form.



Photograph taken from the Internet. Provenance unknown.



A Fragrant Wilderness


Photo taken from Tumblr