Treasure Island

Mark R Slaughter


Her Hidden Treasure


Her flame was only for the women –
Not for us unlucky men;
A weakness lay for feminine way:
To feel an even fairer skin
In silky slide.

Her lips were for the satin love that
Only flows from rising breast;
The creamy tan was not for man
To pull towards a chiselled chest
In weathered hide.

Her hidden treasure down below
Would shy away from macho length
And only rouse upon the blouse
Undone by other sapphic strength –
In time, inside!


Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010










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woman woman woman woman woman woman

Submitted: Saturday, February 27, 2010
Edited: Wednesday, May 11, 2011

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