If But That-Poem

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Oh, if but that your heart could see, could feel as mine doth nightly bleed

I’d never wonder how or when, I last your pleasure, found and freed

Oh, if but that your honest blush, of pleasured fingers, silken touch

Did glow as while your eyes did writ, the signs of trembling, loving bliss

Oh, if but that you cared as I, loving bond, firm passion bound

With youthful fingers, yearnings find, in hands that then surround

Oh, If but that our passing time, in hastiness thus duly shared

Was something more than purpose done, my lonely sadness spared

Oh, if but that your heartfelt need, to tease, to please, to satisfy

Within your lips and hands did lie, of this I would so oft, decry

Oh, if but that your passive stroke, inspired a smile, soft sighs delight

Instead of just a duty paid, eyes closed shut, held firmly tight

Oh, if but that my fingers touch, with tepid hunger cause you thrill

Not near as much as all I feel, when probing, seeking, lust to fill

Oh, if but that I somehow knew, just how to you I might confess

To knowing that no matter how, I’ll never conquer this

Oh, if but that I could but see, such ardent passions rushing through

My hands to you or yours to me, as either, much would greatly do

Oh, if but that you could be, my loving lover, loving free

And I could be, the one to be, when you are loving me

© 2010, Tim Wilkinson & Wayne Wilks


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