On this rainy day the possibilities are endless,
as the rain’s music forms,
too fuel my inner vixen’s storm,
strategically guiding my, cuddles
to magnify they’re norm.
As my other peer pressured arm, calls off and
unplugs the world’s, alarm.
After which I’d stir my rich coffee with his spoon,
as my hot brew would shake you awake,
too sip my sweet perculated juice,
and this time,
when I’m done with you,
I’ll simply ride you back to sleep and just write.
Until appetites decide otherwise,
of course we’ll order in,
as 2nd and 3rd waves of unharnessed passions begin.
While you thrust my ideas,
as target practice
between, what’s left of an elongated pause,
as my mist evolves,
Right after our pillow fight,
and last exhausting plight,
we’d enjoy our dayed night,
as the blinds appear drawn,
the sweet darkness of the rain’s music,
arouses energy, while stirring our yawns.
As shortened cat naps, get distracted, drenched by a long melodious song.
On this rainy day,
I’d render my last quest,
taking a slow paced way,
my love of karaoke, singing into the mike,
as my grey eyes,
tease your soul’s visual shyness,
by addressing you as my royal highness,
until you melted mightily,
On this beautiful rainy day,
right in front of the window bare,
in the rainstorms sight…I’d write.
Poetry By Tamara Dorsey-Moore
Thinker on the Loose
Copyright (c) 2017 Reserved purposes intended.