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| This is how I write my poetry except I don't usually wear my shoes in bed unless I'm getting laid |
Awhile ago, I promised a naughty poem. And then I didn't like the way it went when I first tried to write it, so I gave up and got back to writing novels, blogs, stories, and columns. I did return to the poem eventually though and it even did close to what I hoped it would. It's an
English form sonnet although not Shakespearean because I didn't do iambic pentameter. Keep in mind though, I'm a novelist/columnist, and don't make any claim to be a poet. But, like most girls who spent a lot of their teenage years reading and writing angsty teenage poetry, I do still have the urge to sometimes jot down a poem. This is a lovely little sonnet about how often I've been hanging out horny at home, waiting for my girlfriend to get done with her classes so I can pounce her and tear her clothes off when she gets home. Who knew sitting at home all day writing and editing romance/erotica would have such a sexy effect on me? By the way, I wrote it on a funny page in my little inspirations poetry book if you check the prompt on the bottom. Enjoy!
