A lover’s touch

When love has cooled,

It is the little things we miss.

The feel of your naked breasts pushed against my back.

Your hand caressing and resting upon my hip.

When you tug my hair in play,  or with darker intent slowly scratch my shoulder.

Our legs in joyful entangle, and our feet locked in wrestle.

When I kiss your neck the way you arch towards me, and squeeze my hand.

We parade the act of love making but it is not the whole.

It is my lover’s touches that I cherish.

Dean Reeves

My Poetry

Ghost Tree

The First Fen Blow

You should look away

I have not woken 

Bottled Love

War end

A lover’s touch


Beauty of her nature 

Fierce Love

The Rat

My Moody Girl

We have met before…

You are….

Looking Up


Stare of the Moon

Holding the thread


Stone cold love

The imps are feasting

I am more than a tree

Wisbech Morning

The bleeding fields of Naseby

I did not cry

We are England

Curtain Call

Do not pity the English

Turning Left

Prosperity of Evil

Bang Up

“The Return of Black Shuck”

“I saw You” by Dean Reeves

“Bring the wind” by Dean Reeves

“I choose” by Dean Reeves

“Forgotten Dancer” by Dean Reeves

“Market Day” by Dean Reeves



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