Passion’s Tempest

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“A violent windstorm the night before the solstice.”Jim Harrison
Here inside these walls
where the winds can never howl
entwined within your arms
as the world outside
tears asunder in majestic wonder
of a monsoon rain.

In this sheltered room
as we feed our erotic needs
a tangle of arms and legs
when the passion rages
in tune with the violent storm.

Each crack of tingling lightning
reveals our lusty eyes
as the booming thunder hides
screams and ardent cries,
resulting in a riotous quiver
of our trembling thighs.

Our bodies glistening with sweat,
reveling in this flooding rush
the glorious rain of passion falls
as sweet lips caress and brush
our pulsing bodies quake
as the blowing wind abates.

 

©2018 Linda Lee Lyberg

6 thoughts on “Passion’s Tempest

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