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Please note that this content is sexually explicit. We recommend that you should not read this content if you are offended by sexually explicit material.

This week’s feature, Louise Turner is inspired by Keats. In her own words ‘the young man who inspired the poem was indeed a Grecian youth!’ Oh my.

Fair youth, beneath the trees

You are from no Grecian urn
And I from no Rubens’ brush
Yet we come together in art, in music
In the poetry of night

Would that I had more hands
So that I may hold you firm
Confine you to this moment
Capture you in flight

Those arms, that breath
The sweet song of your youth
In salt contrast to
My muscat grape heaviness

Silk over steel, your limbs
Outlined in the door
Light curving slyly
Teasing forth a reply

I am open legged, revealed
Belly soft and heaving
As you pull my nipples
Into beaded buds

Your prong, so shy then bold
Advances, dances, sways then
Launches into me
Sliding between the folds

Fortune favours the bold
Lover, we explore
A dancer’s routine
Of intricate steps

I wish to fly as if pursued
By your faun-like form
Tumbled into moss
Masquerading as sheets

Now, a hard driving force
Animal in nature, pushing
Deeper inside, thrusting
The breath from me

Bird calls from my lips
Cooing pigeon, shrieking eagle
Crescendo of joy
An aviary of flutterings

Finally, permission granted
A bear’s growl from your belly
A grunting, snuffling low
Rumble of expression

Cool now, turning our faces away
From the painted scene
Of topography on the bed
Tumult and devastation

The business of dressing
The folding of pants
Back snaps the bra
Closing on still-beaded buds

Softer than when we began
An understanding of physics
Space between us
Time unravelling out the door

Fair youth, beneath the trees
In our own Arcady
Me, a maiden overwrought
Made happy by a kiss