Glenda Ewing

I Am Love in Motion!

I know who I am

I am love in motion!

Strong in spirit
Filled with a passion
For living and loving
And spreading the joy
I feel in my heart
As deep as any ocean

I am love in motion!

Standing in the issue of
Who I am
With my head up
Letting nobody bring me down
Or bend me over
This I feel in my heart
As deep as any ocean
I accept who I am
Happily!

I am love in motion!

I won’t language myself
Into any drama
Won’t sell my soul
Won’t give it away
I will continue to nurture
The joy I feel in my heart
Each and every day
This love which is deep
As any ocean
I will embrace in the spirit
Of love
With so much passion for
Living, loving, giving, receiving
Because…

I am love in motion!

My Life Is On Purpose

I was never a stain on the sheet
That just worked it’s way in between
To the canal of…the Love River
No!
I rafted my way to the uterus
The cradle for conception—reproduction
Determined to be here
In, out, above, and all around this surface
My life—is on purpose
No!
I was nn-never the stain!
I am the resource
The love-force that was gained
Yes!
I am the part of the geodesic circle
Which became…ME
Bold, brown, beautiful and unique
Proud, strong, determined
Spiritual and complete
In, out, above, and all around this surface
My life is on purpose
No! No!
I was never the stain
No! Never
I was meant to be
I am the resource
The love-force that was gained
Yesss!!
I am the part of that geodesic circle
Which became…ME!!!!
And it feels good saying that
You know?
And I am
In, out, above and all around this surface
My life is on purpose

My Body Is A Journal

My body is a journal filled with gentle
Lines creating pages and themes
A temple of beauty and mystique
Proud, bold, spiritually empowered
Exquisite and quite unique
My eyes have shining pupils like
Twinkling stars
The ‘mirrors of my soul’
Which can cut—leaving scars
On attacks from those that try to
Intrude and impose
They sparkle with love and adoration
When filled with passion and seduction
This journal lives life full of construction
From the toes on my feet
To the fingertips on my hands
I am femininity sublime to the extreme
Small feet, and a soft curvaceous instep
With strong legs flowing
Down from my hips
My nose is sensitive to the
Pheromones of men’s scents and
Their chameleon-like wonder
It attracts me to the right man like
Electrical bolts of thunder
My mouth is the furnace of emotions
Connected to my heart and are
Only revealed when kisses of desire
Tempt my tongue, which is the torch
That ignites the flame that flickers
My kisses upon sensual lips
My body is a journal filled with pages
Of old hurt, new hope, new ideas,
New love, whimsical dreams
And mystical fantasies
My breasts are the open book
Covering the lines of passion
And my heart’s destiny
My thighs cover the words
On pages of life, love, and things
I need to feel
They hold up my hips which
Sway with the promise that
Whatever hurts me will heal
These thighs protect my pillowed mound
Which hovers above the majestic caverns
That hold sacred ground
These caverns embody my ‘love walls’
In between the folds of my ‘love lips’
Lies the softest budding flower
Beckoning, with its sensuous tip
And sweet smell of molasses
Oooozing erotica and ecstasy
Swelling and pulsating orgasms
With rapture…unlimited
My ears withhold the tunnel
To blissful eargasms from kisses
Lingering from my lover’s lips
Moist, soft, and warm
Like a butterfly’s wings
Stroking, nibbling, tasting
With his moist tongue writing
“Satisfaction guaranteed everywhere”
My body squirms and quivers
As it begins to sing
My body is a journal
Which gives homage to
My beautiful lover
For he is not a bedroom bully or a rammer
He knows when to ram though
He is a lover with powerful
Yet, masterful hands
The body of Adonis, a mane of dreads
Like a lion of the Serengeti
Skin as smooth and creamy
Like caramel
With smoldering eyes
He towers over me 6’2
Beautiful smile, a mouth like cake
I am feverish with anticipation
Because he holds me with the skills
Of a dancer…he knows what to do
My body is a journal
Not a yearbook where anybody
Can write their signature
I can only be read with the nose close
To the pages, and the fingers moving over
The words like a child does
When they’re learning to read
My body is a journal of love
Wordplay for me, is foreplay
I am part of a rainbow intertwined
With a mélange of bloods
And DNA from tribes that
Fucked and fought from
Shore to shore in America
I write this journal with Love

© 2005 by Glenda Ewing