I Write Poetry

Bus Stop Rendezvous

by: Rob Paquin

As the night time closes in. And the city lights bathe the world
The glow of neon shining down, at the bus stop, a lovelorn soul


She feels the sting within her heart of passions slowly dying
And in the dark of night she weeps inside. A manner of silent crying


So there she sat, the predestined place, for such a rendezvous.
To reignite that lust inside, the single rose would be his clue


The ring upon her finger told, of the chains upon her love
Yet she longed so much to be freed, a moment etched in gold


A single passing passion to touch her deep within
she sat there with that longing from the words that came from him


Her body quickly tensed, her mind a bit askew
as the bus that bore him came into her view


She rose with anticipation trembling inside
her lustful passions beckoned and made her feel alive.


The bus it pulled up to her. Her eyes went wide and clear
and as he stepped down to the street it chased away her fears


There was no need for talking, all pretense now dispelled.
She took him by the hand then, and led him to the quaint hotel


Driven by their needs and wants overcome with their desire
They made their way into that room to set the bed on fire


He swept her to him and held her tight,
and like the bed her soul alight


She returned his kiss, with her heated tongue
Then he burned too like when he was young


They came together. They burned as one
And with their lust, bright as the sun


They enjoyed the moment until the moment was done.


And in their parting they both did know, that wherever they both might go
That passion lives and burns so slow. Gladly they shared the wondrous glow.

~ The Snowdog

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