Mr. Africa Poetry Lounge!

Sitting on my front porch

I see her on the sidwalk,
And as she proceeds to walk by,
She walks up to me.
Wanting to embrace each other,
We decline and sit on my front porch.

Talking about the neighborhood,
And what old Ms. Alice left in her will.
I didn't get anything,
But, she got a box of sweaters.

On my front porch she sat trying on her sweaters,
In broad daylight she tried them on.
I sat back and admired her while she did this.
My temperature rose,
And my mouth was watering.

So instead of declining,
I embraced her off guard.
She put up no resistance,
And went along with it all,
On my front porch.

We began to lock lips in the heat of passion,
Allowing the saliva of one another to mix and mingle.
Letting our hands roam,
Touching every inch of one another,
Like a biology session.
All of this was in the open,
On my front porch.

I took my shirt off,
And as I began to unbutton hers,
I closed my eyes,
And as I opened them,
She was still walking by.
And I was still alone,
On my front porch.

Written by Master Nappy Beard


Mr. Africa Poetry Lounge