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His poems held to her breast, Touching words he wrote for her, Which leave her breathless. Taken bare and unaware she gasps! Where came this sudden rush of heat, Her body's hot desires? Touched by words and pages, Released by strokes of absent hands, She finds her new freedom. • Donovan Baldwin

The nurse said, "Mr. Owens, It's time you were in bed." The old man gave a gentle smile And gravely bowed his head. As she helped him from the wheelchair, She thought she heard him say, "Tonight I'll ride with Blackie, And watch Bear as he plays." It was sad to see the weak old thing Lose the little sense he'd kept. So, as she put his things away, The young girl quietly wept. Then she found the crumpled paper, Almost tossed it in the trash. Except for "Corporal Owens", That her eyes caught in a flash. As she read the yellowed pages The walls moved out and back. She saw a Mountie on a killer's trail Out on a Yukon track. It was the tale of Corporal Owens Upon the page she read, A hero of the Yukon Dressed in Mountie red. She began to wonder of the sights The dim old eyes could see.. The mountains and the meadows, Rivers wild and free. It saddened her that this fine man Raved like a madman there In his mind gone out to play With Blackie and some bear. "He's reverted to his childhood, Or made up a place to play." Then she saw the picture As she began to turn away. It was a tall young Mountie On a horse as dark as dark, And beside them sat a huskie, As if about to bark. On the back she saw the writing, "Rick, his dog and horse." Then in the dark of that quiet room, Things went from bad to worse. The breathing of the old man Rasped out in the night, And the nurse reached for the button, In momentary fright. She then pulled back her hand, As the man began to smile. She knew that he had saddled up, To ride a last long mile. Yes, tonight there'll be a rider In the freezing Yuko On a horse that he calls Blackie, Beside the huskie he named Bear. • Donovan Baldwin

I speak to you in secret ways, Words spread upon the wind, Poetry whispered in your ear, Breath warm upon your cheek, Touches soft, yet securely intimate, Embraces sudden, bodies joined, Kisses deep and wet, Lasting long and shutting out, Whatever else may be in the world. • Donovan Baldwin

Quite a naughty lass is she, Not always lady that you see, Yet, still a lady evermore, For what occurs behind closed doors, Shall remain a private view, For only one or maybe two. She's a lady in all guises, Costumes, mask, other surprises. No matter how wide her desires, Or the heat of inner fires. Despite what hands and lips might do, If you know her, you know it's true, A lady always she will be, With nothing but respect from me. • Donovan Baldwin

i will wait for you beside this old memory... we haven't made yet • Donovan Baldwin

your innocent dance guileless seduction without words sharing sincere desires #Donovan Baldwin

we read love poems cursive script on old parchment with candles and wine • Donovan Baldwin

lady godiva riding naked through the town bareback you might say • Donovan Baldwin

She was a whore, and only a whore, Who didn't love me at all. But she treated me well and showed me the way, When manhood came to call. Others came later, with faces and names, Some forgotten, though enjoyed so much. Yet, she's on the list of the ones I recall, Her look, her taste, and her touch. I'm settled now, with my aches and pains, Though I've had days of sorrow and joy. But I remember the night in that hot border town, The last time I was a boy. • Donovan Baldwin

Give names to the dead. Do not merely erect monuments Of blank hard granite, And, carve thereon, Letters spelling names Of those who have Marched the last march, Gone down beneath That lonesome bugle's call, And the last slow Salute of comrades., Give names to the dead, Call them brother and sister, And remember them As they were As they would want To be remembered, Proud and prepared To do their duty As they had promised. Make that their monument, And never forget. • Donovan Baldwin

FEATHERED FURIES DIVE THE BEAST SOME FROM THE WEST, SOME FROM THE EAST "Begone! Now leave the seagull's land, You are not welcome, child of man. You've taken lives ere they began, You've smashed our eggs hid in the sand." He raises up his BB gun, Blinks as his eyes brush past the Sun. Holds and squeezes...down falls one. He runs to see what he has done. "Now gone a year, and gone a friend. The tale unfolds without an end. As man-child joins the ranks of men, But, others come to hunt again." Feathers gray and white, now red, The eyes are closed, the bird is dead. One instant in the man-child's head, There comes, then goes, some unnamed dread. "They learn from us, from how we die, As from us they learned to sail the sky. There are a few, as years pass by, Who sometimes learn to heed our cries" HE LEAVES THE BEACH ON LEAN, BROWN LEGS, BEHIND DEAD BIRDS...CRUSHED SEAGULL EGGS.

Before us came many, Too many to count. Many have been evil. Many have been good, And kind, loving, caring, Doing the best they could, Who they were, Where they were, When they were, Too many to count. After us come many, Too many to count. We are here, now. Choose your history. • Donovan Baldwin