Evie Wood

Willing Sexos on Organic Gardens

all you deprived males
of shrivelled fantasy
come to wanton me
dig in to my lonely black earth
prune back my overgrown fear
twiggy prickly restless angst
weed out my sleepless nights
tossing turning in my lonesome bed

think not of monetary reward
(it is but miserable annuity)
instead remuneration
by lascivious lustful gratuities

let me gaze longingly
upon that stripped naked back
sweat glistening
a longing to dab dab with tongue
at salty droplets
let a widow’s heart gladden
at those rippling biceps
and round muscled shoulders
a promise to hover over

let us push pull
at tough dock roots
in unison
sever thorny branches
of the past
throw onto the bonfire of lust

fork over my topsoil
with delirious abandon
spread your heavenly fertiliser
a garden sanctuary awaits
your sprinkling of seed
deep holes scooped out
for your bare-rooted stock
the fruits of your loins
shall flourish and grow

i am planted

in spring

harvest me
pluck me


where are you mandrake
forked legged
potent herb
that heals all
rooted in black earth
from which
i long to pluck you
with delicate fingers
pull you from your
dark little shroud
into the sunlight

shall you be my
ultimate narcotic
sliding slithering
into unconscious moments
under my pillows
kaleidoscopic dreams
feverish nights
perchance from overdose

or carried in my pocket
fondled each day
with love-lust-passion
my rosy-cheeked glow
and glazed eyes
tell-tale signs
of your medicinal power

Must Love Avocado

who could not wish
to bite into that smooth
and lush pale green flesh
cool velvet to sink into
enjoy to lick and lap

taste and texture like heaven
mashed up and pungent
at times
with garlic and lemon

only sad and angry loners
don’t get avocado
with their over-cooked lives
of too many hurried hamburgers
harried coke and fries

people without love
in their lives
don’t get the
delight of the
mushy poem
that is the avo

the panacea for
all that softness
needed around
a hard stone
of a heart

i am your
love fruit
they call it
you can
spoon me out
lay me on a platter
or leave me
at your will

but make sure
you dive in
to taste my
vitamin rich


Evie Wood is a lover and writer of poetry, songs and plays.  Living in the island state of Tasmania, Australia.  Writing with (hopefully) a sense of humour exploring with subtle irony and tongue in cheek mischief the oh-so-serious business of s-e-x: the accelerator that drives the human race to ultimate pleasure. We are but primal beings with an innate urge that mostly cannot be denied. In a sentence, I guess I would sum up by saying, “I believe in telling it like it is; let not our desires be cloaked with coyness, but laid bare in honesty and in whatever your version is of sensuality, lust, and longing.”

Spread the lust

The Erozine