Degrees Poem by Gordon D Wilkinson

Six in the morning another day
Twenty-eight degrees and climbing
Her breathing slow and steady
Wriggling and adjusting in sleep
Twenty-nine degrees and rising
Wild thoughts invade my watching
The rise and fall of her breasts beneath the sheets
Pressing my temperature buttons
Labouring my breathing
Thirty degrees and soaring
That elfin face with a hint of a smile
Smiling at her own warm hidden thoughts
It seems a shame to awaken such beauty
Sweat invades my eyes from the heat
Stinging from the salt
Thirty-one degrees and rising
Unable to cool off in my sexual state
Unconsciously uncontrolled hands wandering beneath the sheets
Searching along her warm form
Wanting her to open her eyes
Needing to see her smile with mock surprise
Thirty-two degrees and the fire is stoked
A burning all consuming passion
She wakes, looks at me
Forty-five degrees and the fire between us explodes
Two furnaces stoking one another
A symphony of pleasure