FabSwingers.com forum: Poetry day

By (user no longer on site) OP
over a year ago

Somewhere to post your favourite poetry..

Here's mine

Girls Who Wear Glasses

It’s said “that men seldom make passes

At girls who wear glasses”

But what if the girl is wrapped within

Such soft velvet-like skin

Or she is full of vitality and vigour

Or has an hourglass figure

With a pinched waist and curvaceous hips

Or moist pouting lips

Perhaps she has milky white thighs

Or maybe come to bed eyes

What if her blouse struggles to repress

Her large heaving chest?

Maybe she has a dazzling smile that wins

Or has long slender pins

Would men ask out girls who wore glasses

If they had really nice arses?

Kind of sums me up

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By (user no longer on site)
over a year ago

There’s this lass called KinkyBird1,

She looks like a whole lot of fun,

If planets align and I find myself in luck,

She might agree to give me a fuck?

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By *tella HeelsTV/TS
over a year ago

west here ford shire

"Somewhere to post your favourite poetry..

Here's mine

Girls Who Wear Glasses

It’s said “that men seldom make passes

At girls who wear glasses”

But what if the girl is wrapped within

Such soft velvet-like skin

Or she is full of vitality and vigour

Or has an hourglass figure

With a pinched waist and curvaceous hips

Or moist pouting lips

Perhaps she has milky white thighs

Or maybe come to bed eyes

What if her blouse struggles to repress

Her large heaving chest?

Maybe she has a dazzling smile that wins

Or has long slender pins

Would men ask out girls who wore glasses

If they had really nice arses?

Kind of sums me up

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By (user no longer on site)
over a year ago

For Estella

Little

rose,

roselet,

at times,

tiny and naked,

it seems

as though you would fit

in one of my hands,

as though I’ll clasp you like this

and carry you to my mouth,

but

suddenly

my feet touch your feet and my mouth your lips:

you have grown,

your shoulders rise like two hills,

your breasts wander over my breast,

my arm scarcely manages to encircle the thin

new-moon line of your waist:

in love you loosened yourself like sea water:

I can scarcely measure the sky’s most spacious eyes

and I lean down to your mouth to kiss the earth.

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By (user no longer on site)
over a year ago

As a Newcastle fan here I sit

Wondering why were so shit

But I keep going back

Even though we are Kak

My wife says its because I'm a Tit

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By (user no longer on site)
over a year ago

Me.

We.

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By *uciyassMan
over a year ago

sheffield

I once met a girl

Who ran up to me

She kicked me in the balls

And screamed

Wanker

The end

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By *he Mac LassWoman
over a year ago

Hefty Hideaway

It’s meant to be spoken word and so to be read softly but here’s one I read at last poetry jam.

I’ve blown out my torch

In the darkness I have no light

Just my senses and intuition

I grope around and still it’s you

Blocking my way I can’t get around

Let me pass

Find my way

Reap the benefits

Of a new direction

Let me go

Free yourself

Blow out your torch

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By *he Mac LassWoman
over a year ago

Hefty Hideaway

And one I wrote years ago but still makes me giggle. Disclaimer: This poem is not based on anyone but more the that when I wrote it this topic was regularly discussed.

An ode to the fab crazy bitches

They lurk in the forum

Waiting for their man

To post a reply

The clock it ticks

They get impatient

Refresh the page

Green arrow utilistation

Damn it he posted

And that slag replied

Her days are numbered

I'll troll her

He's mine

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By (user no longer on site)
over a year ago

My darling one,

I see the light on your

Horizon, and your desire

to run wild and free.

Your tempestuous nature

breaks my core,

Every time you run away from me.

My love,

I have to run.

I try to keep away the

Storm as best as I can.

I always come back,

To wash away every

line left etched across your sand.

My darling one,

It cuts more than lines,

The cracks grow deeper

every time you say goodbye.

You always run back,

your movements bound

to your lover in the sky.

My love,

It’s to you I’m bound,

It’s you who feels

my gentle caress.

And it’s for you that

I break myself

To return for one more kiss.

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By (user no longer on site)
over a year ago

These words I wrote, play and sing to you

Do not convey the love I brought and bring to you

For this is a song for while I'm away

To say all the things I'd love to say

You are my life, my everything, you're all I have

You are my hopes, my dreams, my world come true

You're all I have

Please heed me now these words I have to say

Now I'm headed for the border

You see this song it ends right at the start

I swore when I was younger

No one would win my heart

And far away hills look greener still

But soon they'll all slip away

It's then I'll be returning

And I'll be coming home to stay

You are my life, my everything, you're all I have

You are my hopes, my dreams, my world come true

You're all I have

Please heed me now these words I have to say.

Phillip Paris Lynott (from his book of poems 'A song for while im away')

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By (user no longer on site)
over a year ago

[Removed by poster at 30/10/18 09:34:17]

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By (user no longer on site)
over a year ago

Possibly something by Masefield, for this time if year Walter De La Meres The Listeners, or Hardy's The Darkling Thrush.

If it's a sex poem the Kilminsters Vibrator perhaps?

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By *ryst In IsoldeWoman
over a year ago

your imagination

I kiss your eyelashes,

your lips graze my breast,

Bury my face in your hair

and feel you inside me.

Time slows

to exquisite heartbeats.

Stretched to infinity,

these moments are mine.

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By (user no longer on site)
over a year ago

My work is done here

So lovely to read such beautiful words xx

Still the sheet of water sits

Still the distant trees on the headland

Still the grey clouds hang silently over me

Still am I

Alone in the silence

I hear a faint murmur

Is it the sound of some deep current stirring beneath the water

The sound of a distant bird settling down for the night

The sound of some small creature stirring into existence beneath my feet

It is me

It is the sound of my heart

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By (user no longer on site) OP
over a year ago

"[Removed by poster at 30/10/18 09:34:17]"

I read it..was it one of yours?

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By (user no longer on site)
over a year ago

"[Removed by poster at 30/10/18 09:34:17]

I read it..was it one of yours? "

The second one I posted is, yes.

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By (user no longer on site)
over a year ago

He stopped and gazed at me

My heart almost stopped

He stopped and gazed at me

I tried so hard not to look

He stopped and gazed at me

I felt my throat plummet through the earth

He stopped and gazed at me

That man on the train who’s name I do not know.

He stopped and gazed at me

I felt, I felt it so..

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By (user no longer on site)
over a year ago

A girl and a guy

A Tim a Hun

Still watch the games

A bit of fun

We sit and have banter

It's only a laugh

As long as I'm laughing

And he's scratching his arse x

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By *ryst In IsoldeWoman
over a year ago

your imagination

"[Removed by poster at 30/10/18 09:34:17]

I read it..was it one of yours?

The second one I posted is, yes."

I'm a fan of your work

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By (user no longer on site)
over a year ago

Nothing better than "poppies in July" by Sylvia Plath,

"Little poppies, little hell flames,

Do you do no harm?

You flicker. I cannot touch you.

I put my hands among the flames. Nothing burns"

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By (user no longer on site) OP
over a year ago

"[Removed by poster at 30/10/18 09:34:17]

I read it..was it one of yours?

The second one I posted is, yes.

I'm a fan of your work

Me too

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By (user no longer on site)
over a year ago

"[Removed by poster at 30/10/18 09:34:17]

I read it..was it one of yours?

The second one I posted is, yes.

I'm a fan of your work

Me too

Thank you both

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By (user no longer on site) OP
over a year ago

Warningpoem

When I am an old woman I shall wear purple

With a red hat which doesn't go, and doesn't suit me.

And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves

And satin sandals, and say we've no money for butter.

I shall sit down on the pavement when I'm tired

And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells

And run my stick along the public railings

And make up for the sobriety of my youth.

I shall go out in my slippers in the rain

And pick flowers in other people's gardens

And learn to spit.

You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat

And eat three pounds of sausages at a go

Or only bread and pickle for a week

And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in boxes.

But now we must have clothes that keep us dry

And pay our rent and not swear in the street

And set a good example for the children.

We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.

But maybe I ought to practise a little now?

So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised

When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.

Jenny Joseph

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By (user no longer on site)
over a year ago

"Warningpoem

When I am an old woman I shall wear purple

With a red hat which doesn't go, and doesn't suit me.

And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves

And satin sandals, and say we've no money for butter.

I shall sit down on the pavement when I'm tired

And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells

And run my stick along the public railings

And make up for the sobriety of my youth.

I shall go out in my slippers in the rain

And pick flowers in other people's gardens

And learn to spit.

You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat

And eat three pounds of sausages at a go

Or only bread and pickle for a week

And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in boxes.

But now we must have clothes that keep us dry

And pay our rent and not swear in the street

And set a good example for the children.

We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.

But maybe I ought to practise a little now?

So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised

When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.

Jenny Joseph"

I love this... so me

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By (user no longer on site)
over a year ago

In Flanders fields the poppies blow

Between the crosses, row on row,

That mark our place, and in the sky

The larks, still bravely singing, fly

Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago

We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,

Loved and were loved, and now we lie,

In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:

To you from failing hands we throw

The torch; be yours to hold it high.

If ye break faith with us who die

We shall not sleep, though poppies grow

In Flanders fields.

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By (user no longer on site) OP
over a year ago

"In Flanders fields the poppies blow

Between the crosses, row on row,

That mark our place, and in the sky

The larks, still bravely singing, fly

Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago

We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,

Loved and were loved, and now we lie,

In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:

To you from failing hands we throw

The torch; be yours to hold it high.

If ye break faith with us who die

We shall not sleep, though poppies grow

In Flanders fields."

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By (user no longer on site)
over a year ago

"And one I wrote years ago but still makes me giggle. Disclaimer: This poem is not based on anyone but more the that when I wrote it this topic was regularly discussed.

An ode to the fab crazy bitches

They lurk in the forum

Waiting for their man

To post a reply

The clock it ticks

They get impatient

Refresh the page

Green arrow utilistation

Damn it he posted

And that slag replied

Her days are numbered

I'll troll her

He's mine"

This is so funny

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By *ryst In IsoldeWoman
over a year ago

your imagination

"Warningpoem

When I am an old woman I shall wear purple

With a red hat which doesn't go, and doesn't suit me.

And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves

And satin sandals, and say we've no money for butter.

I shall sit down on the pavement when I'm tired

And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells

And run my stick along the public railings

And make up for the sobriety of my youth.

I shall go out in my slippers in the rain

And pick flowers in other people's gardens

And learn to spit.

You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat

And eat three pounds of sausages at a go

Or only bread and pickle for a week

And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in boxes.

But now we must have clothes that keep us dry

And pay our rent and not swear in the street

And set a good example for the children.

We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.

But maybe I ought to practise a little now?

So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised

When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.

Jenny Joseph"

Oh I'm loving this one!! Thank you for sharing

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By (user no longer on site) OP
over a year ago

Dulce et Decorum Est

Wilfred Owen, 1893 - 1918

Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,

Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,

Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs

And towards our distant rest began to trudge.

Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots

But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;

D*unk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots

Of tired, outstripped Five-Nines that dropped behind.

Gas! Gas! Quick, boys!—An ecstasy of fumbling,

Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time;

But someone still was yelling out and stumbling

And flound'ring like a man in fire or lime...

Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light,

As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.

In all my dreams, before my helpless sight,

He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.

If in some smothering dreams you too could pace

Behind the wagon that we flung him in,

And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,

His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin;

If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood

Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,

Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud

Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,—

My friend, you would not tell with such high zest

To children ardent for some desperate glory,

The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est

Pro patria mori

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By *eliWoman
over a year ago

Thinking about it

Makes my skin tighten in the

Most delicious of ways.

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By (user no longer on site) OP
over a year ago

"And one I wrote years ago but still makes me giggle. Disclaimer: This poem is not based on anyone but more the that when I wrote it this topic was regularly discussed.

An ode to the fab crazy bitches

They lurk in the forum

Waiting for their man

To post a reply

The clock it ticks

They get impatient

Refresh the page

Green arrow utilistation

Damn it he posted

And that slag replied

Her days are numbered

I'll troll her

He's mine"

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By *oward1978Man
over a year ago

Rotherham

Memory, why torment me? Autumn skimmed

A struggling thrush through the dull air. The sun

Darted a cloudless wand of light upon

The yellowing wood which thunders in the wind

We were alone, and as we walked we dreamed,

Our hair and thoughts both flying in the breeze.

And then she turned to me her touching eyes:

'What was your loveliest day?' - her golden sound,

Her sweet voice, deep, with a fresh angelic ring.

A tactful smile was all I need reply,

And kissing her white hand - religiously.

- Oh, the first flowers - what a scent they have!

And what a charm breathes in the murmuring

Of the first 'yes' that comes from lips you love!

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By *icecouple561Couple
Forum Mod
over a year ago

East Sussex

I haven't got an absolute favourite but I like this from Hamlet. W. Shakespeare wrote it

Doubt thou the stars are fire;

Doubt that the sun doth move;

Doubt truth to be a liar;

But never doubt I love.

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By (user no longer on site)
over a year ago

Autumn Poem:

Fuck, it's cold.

The End.

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By (user no longer on site) OP
over a year ago

Like the spreading Chestnut tree

I came

I saw

I conkered

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By (user no longer on site)
over a year ago

Your silent skin sings to me

Your forlorn thighs brush across me

The lazy line of your smile weaves its course through my breath

Before your deeper darkness calls to me

And draws me down hard into your wild fingers

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By *oward1978Man
over a year ago

Rotherham

Your death, near now, is of an easy sort.

So slow a fading out brings no real pain.

Breath growing short

Is just uncomfortable. You feel the drain

Of energy, but thought and sight remain:

Enhanced, in fact. When did you ever see

So much sweet beauty as when fine rain falls

On that small tree

And saturates your brick back garden walls,

So many Amber Rooms and mirror halls?

Ever more lavish as the dusk descends

This glistening illuminates the air.

It never ends.

Whenever the rain comes it will be there,

Beyond my time, but now I take my share.

My daughter’s choice, the maple tree is new.

Come autumn and its leaves will turn to flame.

What I must do

Is live to see that. That will end the game

For me, though life continues all the same:

Filling the double doors to bathe my eyes,

A final flood of colors will live on

As my mind dies,

Burned by my vision of a world that shone

So brightly at the last, and then was gone.

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By (user no longer on site)
over a year ago

I once thought it wise to forward some cock pics as a surprise,

But the fair maiden was less than impressed,

She chastised me and blocked me after ridiculing my paltry size.

Now alone with no meets, I sadly witness my profile collapse,

No fear, my next message will surely be favoured, for who can resist, my bright red anal prolapse.

Ok I had 5 minutes on coffee break.

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By *ild_oatsMan
over a year ago

the land of saints & sinners

Roses are red

As are your lips

Now sit on my face

And wiggle those hips

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By (user no longer on site)
over a year ago

And yet one arrives somehow,

finds himself loosening the hooks of

her dress

in a strange bedroom—

feels the autumn

dropping its silk and linen leaves

about her ankles.

The tawdry veined body emerges

twisted upon itself

like a winter wind . . . !

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By (user no longer on site)
over a year ago

Another one of mine

My eyes explore every curve.

I surrender to desire

Tides of passion consumes me

Rushed by lust,

Your flame inspires the fire.

Fingertips dance.

Tongues caress.

Bodies mould together

Beguiled by your scent

Enslaved by your kiss

Your sensual feast,

The sweet taste,

of heat and honey.

We move in rhythm

In race to ecstasy

In fevered motion,

sweat drips

Lost in sensual devotion,

nails across skin,

your weight on my hips.

Then, the quickening,

Our bodies surge,

breathless, entwined

Every inch of you perfect

Every inch divine.

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By (user no longer on site)
over a year ago

"Another one of mine

My eyes explore every curve.

I surrender to desire

Tides of passion consumes me

Rushed by lust,

Your flame inspires the fire.

Fingertips dance.

Tongues caress.

Bodies mould together

Beguiled by your scent

Enslaved by your kiss

Your sensual feast,

The sweet taste,

of heat and honey.

We move in rhythm

In race to ecstasy

In fevered motion,

sweat drips

Lost in sensual devotion,

nails across skin,

your weight on my hips.

Then, the quickening,

Our bodies surge,

breathless, entwined

Every inch of you perfect

Every inch divine."

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By (user no longer on site) OP
over a year ago

"Another one of mine

My eyes explore every curve.

I surrender to desire

Tides of passion consumes me

Rushed by lust,

Your flame inspires the fire.

Fingertips dance.

Tongues caress.

Bodies mould together

Beguiled by your scent

Enslaved by your kiss

Your sensual feast,

The sweet taste,

of heat and honey.

We move in rhythm

In race to ecstasy

In fevered motion,

sweat drips

Lost in sensual devotion,

nails across skin,

your weight on my hips.

Then, the quickening,

Our bodies surge,

breathless, entwined

Every inch of you perfect

Every inch divine."

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By (user no longer on site) OP
over a year ago

" I once thought it wise to forward some cock pics as a surprise,

But the fair maiden was less than impressed,

She chastised me and blocked me after ridiculing my paltry size.

Now alone with no meets, I sadly witness my profile collapse,

No fear, my next message will surely be favoured, for who can resist, my bright red anal prolapse.

Ok I had 5 minutes on coffee break. "

Don't give up the day job

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By (user no longer on site)
over a year ago

Pull my fingers through your dark curls,

Your stubble rubbing my neck and branding me as yours.

Trailing my tickling fingertips down your back.

I can hear it - those moans in my ear as you try to hold back.

I feel you twitch deep down inside of me.

Your teeth sink into the softness: sweet darkness of horror screams in my head.

The thing that silences me, your lips on mine.

As you spill through me.

A really old one of mine that I wrote six years ago apparently. I don't rhyme.

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By *andyMinx_tvTV/TS
over a year ago

Leeds

Here's one I wrote that I hope some of you can relate to:-

"Fear is a choice,

when deciding to meet,

someone new from a faraway street.

Pulses can race,

heart rates can quicken,

butterflies,

your tummy can sicken.

But comfort zones need

to be challenged sometime,

opportunities ladder,

you must climb.

Be not faint of heart,

for the chance, rejoice,

and remember always,

that fear is a choice".

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By *he Mac LassWoman
over a year ago

Hefty Hideaway

I’ve thoroughly enjoyed this thread so far. Some beautiful poetry on display. Howard’s made me well up a little though.

Thanks KB!

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By (user no longer on site) OP
over a year ago

"I’ve thoroughly enjoyed this thread so far. Some beautiful poetry on display. Howard’s made me well up a little though.

Thanks KB! "

You're very welcome MrsM..

We used to do them a lot when I was last here.. perhaps we can carry it on and on like some other threads

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By (user no longer on site) OP
over a year ago

"Here's one I wrote that I hope some of you can relate to:-

"Fear is a choice,

when deciding to meet,

someone new from a faraway street.

Pulses can race,

heart rates can quicken,

butterflies,

your tummy can sicken.

But comfort zones need

to be challenged sometime,

opportunities ladder,

you must climb.

Be not faint of heart,

for the chance, rejoice,

and remember always,

that fear is a choice"."

very apt

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By (user no longer on site)
over a year ago

Autumn leaves are falling

Falling to the ground

See there glorious colours

Orange yellow reds and browns

Autumn leaves are falling

Swirling twirling all around

See there rush of colour

Lying on the ground xx

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By *tella HeelsTV/TS
over a year ago

west here ford shire

[Removed by poster at 30/10/18 15:27:11]

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By (user no longer on site)
over a year ago

"Somewhere to post your favourite poetry..

Here's mine

Girls Who Wear Glasses

It’s said “that men seldom make passes

At girls who wear glasses”

But what if the girl is wrapped within

Such soft velvet-like skin

Or she is full of vitality and vigour

Or has an hourglass figure

With a pinched waist and curvaceous hips

Or moist pouting lips

Perhaps she has milky white thighs

Or maybe come to bed eyes

What if her blouse struggles to repress

Her large heaving chest?

Maybe she has a dazzling smile that wins

Or has long slender pins

Would men ask out girls who wore glasses

If they had really nice arses?

Kind of sums me up

I wear glasses not sure about my arse tho

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By *tella HeelsTV/TS
over a year ago

west here ford shire

This morning as I lay in bed,

A dirty thought tcame in my head,

I Read a story an interracial,

About a milf who got a facial,

All this got my old dick a throbbing

First time in ages thought of waking,

Then I saw the forum post

I have to say congrats to host,

So in the end it’s nice for me

To get my cock spurting with glee!!

You since the cancer I got

No porn or people could get me hot,

Hope you enjoyed this little Rhyme

I’m glad I’m here and had the time..

Xx Stella

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By (user no longer on site) OP
over a year ago

"Somewhere to post your favourite poetry..

Here's mine

Girls Who Wear Glasses

It’s said “that men seldom make passes

At girls who wear glasses”

But what if the girl is wrapped within

Such soft velvet-like skin

Or she is full of vitality and vigour

Or has an hourglass figure

With a pinched waist and curvaceous hips

Or moist pouting lips

Perhaps she has milky white thighs

Or maybe come to bed eyes

What if her blouse struggles to repress

Her large heaving chest?

Maybe she has a dazzling smile that wins

Or has long slender pins

Would men ask out girls who wore glasses

If they had really nice arses?

Kind of sums me up

I wear glasses not sure about my arse tho "

Poetry is for everyone

Im sure there is a poem that sums you up somewhere

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By *tella HeelsTV/TS
over a year ago

west here ford shire

"This morning as I lay in bed,

A dirty thought tcame in my head,

I Read a story an interracial,

About a milf who got a facial,

All this got my old dick a throbbing

First time in ages thought of waking,

Then I saw the forum post

I have to say congrats to host,

So in the end it’s nice for me

To get my cock spurting with glee!!

You since the cancer I got

No porn or people could get me hot,

Hope you enjoyed this little Rhyme

I’m glad I’m here and had the time..

Xx Stella

By the way

This was factual

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