The Queen of Ice

A bit on the boring side to most, this, as my other poems, are just
my feeble attempts at a different style. This style, I am sure, is a bit
odd or old for most who may read it, to them I apoligize. To the
one who does read to the end and enjoys, you I thank.
* * * * *

The moon, she rises from far horizon to catch the clouds
slumbering as she, the queen of ice has been awakened deep in her
castle strong. Awakened by a man who sung loudly from his
fingertips. A man who moved over naked skin as boldly as dragons
strong. A dragon of a man, his kisses were as fire.

The queen of ice, now set amelting on a lava flow of emotions.
She sings, she smiles and she moves to this dance of her heart as
her naked body moans for but more of the demented kisses, cast
from the silent lips that shouts into her very being. A cold heart,
now it shatters and beats out the only eternal song.

Lust and love, nipples and lips, her joy is held in his fingertips,
carried along by his ever-moving hands. She was here, but now she
is gone, a new lusting tempest born to each new heartbeat is she.
Passionate rains of kisses, befalling her prisoner breasts. Oh, Lord
above, passionate rains creating her from herself.

A sorcerer of emotion, he moves through the forests of her mind,
shaking her thoughts as if a wild wind in leafy trees. Footprints of
emotions, his thoughts are her only desire as the spell of lust is
fulfilled. Of this woman of ice so cold, he now rules over her with
his kisses so hot and his fingertips so demented.

Tis this woman of ice who now has befallen her truest of ends as
the magician tears her down then, at his own leisure, puts her back
together again. From lips cast in frost, now melts a smile of radiant
beauty as he loves her body with but his eyes so haunting and
warm.

Warm lips now reach out for the touch of his as her arms pulls
this man to her breasts more as a woman than as the spider of but a
few cold moments before. Her shrieks and her moans, the songs
offered to this night of magic and calm. Warm lips now seemingly
to kiss against her beating heart as her tears melts all that was she.

Between yielding legs, trembling with wants and needs, hot
breath is cast upon wetly wanting lips as the moon tip-toes through
this night. She is moaned-out wantings to have her newest desires
fulfilled with but his touch as she climbs the highest of castle
towers and, once there upon, shrieks her joy to the moon above.

Oh, life is made of these moments where even those of ice have
known. The end of winter, brought to her nipples by the warm
winds of his kisses so sweet and gentle. The wetness of her
womanhood, casts forth flowers of love and passion from the
fertile fields of her mind. Now the empress of need is she.

His body, driven on by heartbeats so loud that the stars above are
brushed aside with his wanton needs of this woman beneath his
body. Heartbeat becomes heartbeat as, with passionate songs to
each, they blend their bodies into but one song. Heartbeats of need,
given and taken by those in their deepest of their awakening.

Oh, mother moon above, Goddess of this nocturnal delight, look
below as to what your magic has created so deep in this night.
Songs of the man, whispered to the woman as her body cries out
for only more of his touchings on this night. Hear her shrieks of
lust and desire, offered only to you as she becomes his lover.

Two bodies, now caught up in a dance as the candle dances and
sways, casting its yellow-red glow from its own hot dancing deep
in the night. A dance, the melting of two bodies into one. Wetness
seeking out wetness as, with desperate tauntings, lips seek out lips.
Here, a story cast into time from the timeless glow of a candle.

Man is of woman, and woman is the nocturnal delight, kissed
down from her mother the moon. A kiss; A desire, blended upon
hot winds to roam this world for her deepest desiring. Mother
moon and her daughter delight, the creator of knights and slayers
of fearsome dragons, the act of creation becomes but a dance.

He is here of his needs, and he knows know what they might be.
She is the smile of his eyes, casting spells into his body and heart
with her cooings until, in the flames of thought, he has taken her to
his arms and, therein, created what has never been before. He has
taken her into the throne room of her charms.

Body upon body, measured dances of entered thought and
passions delight, they offer the sins of their bodies onto high as joy
of being alive. His lips sing to her his delight. His body now a
prisoner of her as the moon holds her breath. Prisoners each,
caught up in the dungeons of their own desires.

Oh, lovers of lust, heed my words, for no queen of ice shall
endure before her mother the moon. Fires hidden beneath the ice,
cry out for their release. The woman hides deep in here, warmed
only by the lust of her eyes. She is the whispered promises of the
summer winds blowing so hot.

Fingers upon his back, pulling him even deeper into her needs
this night as, with whispered molten thoughts, the candle looks on.
A body is in her, teaching her as she teaches in return. The song of
wet desires shrieks from the windows tall, moaning out to the land
around that this castle is about to fall to the very desires it had hid.