From Drabble to Modern Verse
When I wrote the drabbles
Aftershave and Garden
For the Gay Flash Fiction Group there were some comments from the Group on the prose poem quality of the pieces. Taking that a step further my friend Moth2fic very kindly took my original prose and turned them into some wonderful pieces of poetry, encouraging me to try a bit of poetry writing of my own, which I may or may not put here on the site - depending on if it's any good or not 
In the meantime this is Moth's work:
Aftershave
Sounds of the shower.
He stays were he is,
Comfortable, warm,
Eyes closed.
Imagination wanders:
Soapy hands glide
Over broad shoulders,
Flat stomach,
Silken pubes
Flaccid cock.
Should he venture?
Run his own hands
Over the soapy body?
Or wait
For shaving cream,
Razor and aftershave?
Swift strokes over
The love face;
Morning stubble gone.
Then he can rub his cheek
Against his lover’s.
Share the scent,
Beloved leather and spice.
Hands ache to touch.
He knows the answer.Garden
Long hot days.
Summer sun has destroyed
Most of the garden, burning almost all.
The hardiest native plants
Remain.
Autumn
And welcome rain.
Winter plants grow.
I watch new buds
Arrive.
He will return.
The seasons have changed;
The tour of duty
In that foreign land
Finishes.
As always,
We'll pretend
Our passion does not exist.
No soldier dare do otherwise than hide
What he loves most.
I watch our winter garden grow.
And wait.