Black and white Green and blue Hand in hand Martha and Anne Erotic Poems of Summer

I was carrying a moquette sample In my trusted black rucksack It dated from the period 1947-1979 And would have be seen during that era On the refurbished RT-type buses My sample was now a bookmark I had not expected the city to be hot The winds had been forecast to change Thankfully I was…

I am glad that you arrived I do hope that Robbie is comfortable Vicky will look after him Until he is back of his feet What a lovely sister she is I am missing you Will Although Rye is quite lovely It was so warm last night I found it hard to sleep So I…

Do you remember when we sat On that hot Kent station And you commented on The beauty of dragonflies Which suggested to me That there was a river nearby

Will poor Will What rotten luck All the way to Ayr You are a good brother In your rucksack A gift is lightly hidden Stories by Anais Nin Within the pages of your book You will find a scented envelope Which contains a pinch Of my blonde maiden hairs Jayne x

Jayne in Rye We had hard coded plans But even ice melts Will has been asked To accompany his injured brother Back to his London home From the place of his accident Nothing serious but painful Whilst I will be forced to enjoy Rye It will be a long journey On a hot day So…

The hot day had quickly exhausted us Too many miles We had not cared for ourselves After careful consideration We decided to sit in the shade Of the deep trees on platform two Two trains passed in quick succession They stirred the stale rural air Which was a welcome relief Jayne & Will

Oli whose real name was Olivia Had popped into town As she was picking up a book Little did I know That she was also going to surprise me With a book as I had been kind to her Memories of My Melancholy Whores Had been written by Gabriel Garcia Marquez I had read many…

You are up early Long days short nights The air always seems to be cool The cooler it is The hotter the day It is so nice Sitting beside the glass water Of the swimming pool Watching the wind ripples I prefer the vapour trails High in the vacancy above They are already bathed orange…

You think I am asleep A victim of the previous night As you swim in the pool But I am awake And wait for you To climb out of the pool Before I speak You show no embarrassment. This does not surprise me Erotic Poems of Summer