The Green Parrot, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

The Green ParrotThe Green Parrot, Vincent Van Gogh (1886)

The Green Parrot

Nary a moment inside of the door
Not given time to hang my outer coat
The eager green parrot says ‘give me more’
Never to fail for it is merely rote

The cracker is my ticket to enter
This place filled with much love and happiness
But not a place of incessant banter
A place to share my love which is endless

To taste her red velvet lips I implore
If to wait I shall certainly explode
The softness of her body to explore
Every ounce of her love to be swallowed

Hotly caressing the one I adore
Heard the parrot kept saying ‘give me more’

 

Grasshopper, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

GrasshopperOlive Trees, Vincent van Gogh (1889)

Grasshopper

It’s a hot summer night, I see the moon
Placing its glow on leaves of olive trees
All is alive in the shadows of June
It is good to feel the slow moving breeze

Standing bare before the bedroom window
Breathing in rose scent in the evening air
Listening to tiny creatures below
Grasshopper coaxing mate into his lair

Felt a meaningful grip upon my hips
Sensing desire to materialize
Turning to meet her parted agile lips
Her message is clear as her striking eyes

The grasshopper makes music with his legs
Soon there’ll be bountiful grasshopper eggs

 

Windflowers, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

WindflowersWindflowers, John William Waterhouse (1902)

Windflowers

Thou garner my flowers then dash away,
Thy beauty is much greater than their sum.
Alluring garden would be if thou stay,
Just remain ‘til thee be final blossom.

Sent the wind to touch your ivory skin.
Purer than that of newborn mother’s milk,
Protecting thy beauty which burns within.
Come stay awhile so I may touch thy silk.

Do sense a hesitation in thy pace,
Thy action causes heartbeat to increase.
Turn so I may see thy beautiful face,
This feeling of love for thee shall not cease.

Let me braid my flowers into thy hair,
And I shall give my heart to thee to wear.

 

The Rose, a Poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

The RoseThe Rose, Frederic Soulacroix, (n.d.)

The Rose

‘Tis my wanting heart I have sent thy way
Being fragile needing thy tender care
Between thy breasts for safety it must stay
No thorns are present to give thee a scare

Sorry that the token rose having tossed
Errantly missing its intended mark
Hope this not an omen to be star-crossed
As wishes in my heart to increase this spark

But why the sadden look upon thy face
Thine eyes are missing their usual glow
If thou wear a smile isn’t in the right place
Is something in thy heart I need to know

Thy quick response surely unsuspected
For it is woeful to be rejected

 

Unexpected Love, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Unexpected LoveWoman Fastening Her Garter, Edouard Manet (1879)

Unexpected Love

In a cold darkened world of loneliness
Two bodies unexpectedly collide
Each searching for a special happiness
Both with different lives they wish to hide

Man and woman in need of the same thing
The warm gentle caress of human touch
No sign of untanned lines of wedding rings
Soon they’re within each other’s hungry clutch

Neither one at all fond of keeping score
Finding changes in their deepest feelings
Suddenly realizing they want more
The sharing joys that being in love brings

Neither asking questions the other’s past
Too busy ensuring that love will last

 

Thirsting, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

ThirstingBoy with Pitcher, Edouard Manet (1872)

Thirsting

In my body a desire to express
If left undone surely I will explode
Is your great beauty eager to possess
It is in my heart shall be your abode

To hold you intimately in my hands
Drinking of your young love with eagerness
With every sip my love for you expands
Oh to fully bathe in your tenderness

Your skin softer than the world’s finest silk
Touching mine makes me want you even more
This feeling of love for you will not wilt
As I never felt this anguish before

Quietly we can go to river’s edge
There together shall take the lover’s pledge

 

It is You, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

It is YouBerthe Morisot, Edouard Manet (1869)

It is You

Why is it that love has become a chore
It is you I give myself evermore
It is you only that I do adore
It is you I could not love any more

It is you who truly make my life bright
It is you I desire to hold so tight
It is you I want always in my sight
It is you I hunger for every night

It is you who now give an awful fright
It is you who I fear may soon take flight
It is you whose heart I must reignite
It is you my loving heart that I plight

If it be that your love I can’t restore
Shall quickly quit this life forevermore