Wild Outdoors

Erotic Poetry

Like the Savannah 

I open, 

my curves undulating like dunes 

these waves of flesh and bone

grown in the wild outdoors 

never happier than breathing deep

fresh forest air, drinking it in, 

moss and heathers make for soft rest 

the refuge of trees 

whisper to me 

I feel erotic here, 

the somber sound is colossal 

and I almost drown in it 

the whirring of wind 

that whistles a whimsy,  

follows me furiously 

calling me into the hollows

to wander amidst them curiously 

trunk to root 

wallowing and rejoicing 

on the forrest fruit 

---

I fall to my knees, I plead  

cry out to my deepest primal needs 

my sacred space 

this barron place owns me, 

like you own me 

I ask to be filled up, fill my cup 

I’ll let it overflow with love and lust 

and no fuss 

as I, alone here, 

enjoy the mountain rain  

on my naked skin - bare 

and weeping for you 

I touch myself too, 

to find pleasure in the heathers,

my desire, smothers me 

like fire flames 

raging to clear an easy path.  

---

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned 

or a woman forlorn 

denied the love she longs for 

because at last may I burst and turn  

this need that makes my sex burn 

my heart yearn 

my head whirs 

and I, just I upon the forest floor 

without you, you who I adore 

seem so far away 

but under the stars I pray 

until one day, you, I and the forrest 

meet in reverence and begin again

Vianne Armour