Meant To Be

Howard "Sergio" Tucker

She touches my arm in a soft yet excited way;

She withdrawals her doubts and beams genuine smiles at everything I say;

Her perfume, a natural sweetness especially when she plays;

She becomes part of me; fighting those feelings, now stop and pray;

His gifts are glorious as she sings of an exotic land found south and far away;

Of hope, love and faith…that is our shared day.

She is an Angel on magnificent wings, the brightness of wisdom in her eyes;

Her breath kisses life into my soul…takes my spirit beyond the skies.

The softness of her lips I do want to play;

Her tongue darting to taste my wine in such a seductive way;

Finding curiosity in her intelligence that confounds the harsh world of today;

In her arms to find warmth and comfort, she so affectionately displays.

She moves in carefree sensuality…limitless compassion with such ease;

She presses her lips at the right moments just to tease.

She is…I am…who we are…meant to be…friends.

(c) 9/25/2010

Later That Evening

By Howard "Sergio" Tucker

Moon, full, blue & white beams glide across the soft scattered Egyptian linen, play a joyful hide and seek with the night.

Her breath in rhythm with my heart…her skin glistening with sweet, salty nectar;

Incense drifts through the room, its smoke snakes toward the open window, careless, exotic, enticing, giddy, delirious…

Flickering candles, wink as the gentle salt summer breeze kisses them, illuminating the half eaten mango, dark chocolate…red chili, spicy, sweet and sensuous…

Hear the beat of the drums calling, pounding, pulsing, and primal

Feel the heat of the samba, eternally desired yet urgently final.

Move in rhythm…eyes closed, senses heightened with the touch of supple seduction

Intoxicating delight of tender cinnamon mocha skin brushing against the soul…

Sway from side to side like elegant palms in the trade winds…small of the back arched, reaching, wanting, anticipating and breathlessly whispering against the neck, not knowing if promises of ecstasy reach the ear.

Hear the beat of the drums calling, pounding, pulsing, and primal

Feel the heat of the samba, eternally desired yet urgently final.

© 4/20/2009

ENOUGH

By Howard "Sergio" Tucker

Listening to what's wrong for the 100^th time.

Been walked on, walked by and strategically ignored.

Not lying down and won't take it anymore….whose back is turned and walk away.

Superior do you say?

Tired of the unending drama, conflict, confusion and lies,

Move on…do the right thing; stop making excuses…just try.

Gave plenty, didn't say a word.

Dutiful and respectful…failed to listen; now that's absurd!

Pushed the easy button with a toxic tongue,

Back up and don't come calling…'cause no one is there, the bell has rung.

Not there to hear the same old negative vibes, arm chair analysis from 100 stories high,

Never walked a day in someone else's shoes…still trying to rationalize,

Vaguely understanding the pressure…oblivious to the real issues,

Yes, fighting false assumptions.

Now mark thy words. Think carefully. Come correct,

Understand the discontent…with conflicting versions of the status quo.

Enough!

Change is coming.

FAITH.

JUSTICE.

PEACE....

©8/12/2010