Thrill with lissome lust of the light,
O man ! My man !
Come careering out of the night
Of Pan ! Io Pan .
Io Pan ! Io Pan ! Come over the sea
From Sicily and from Arcady !
Roaming as Bacchus, with fauns and pards
And nymphs and styrs for thy guards,
On a milk-white ass, come over the sea
To me, to me,
I prefer red chile over my eggs
and potatoes for breakfast.
Red chile ristras decorate my door,
dry on my roof, and hang from eaves.
They lend open-air vegetable stands
historical grandeur, and gently swing
with an air of festive welcome.
I can hear them talking in the wind,
haggard, yellowing, crisp, rasping
tongues of old men, licking the breeze.
Can Earth be Earth when all its trees are gone,
And sudsy waters have become unfit,
And poisoned life no longer greets the dawn
With raucous sounds that death has caused to quit?
Will trees no longer wave, with limbs unfurled,
On hapless Earth, that e'er in orbit roams?
Will human ego sacrifice the world
To satiate its lust for pompous homes?
Will distant Space look down on orb that's bald
And ask, "Wise Poet, can you name that sphere?
Many are making love. Up above, the angels
in the unshaken ether and crystal of human longing
are braiding one another's hair, which is strawberry blond
and the texture of cold rivers. They glance
down from time to time at the awkward ecstasy—
it must look to them like featherless birds
splashing in the spring puddle of a bed—
and then one woman, she is about to come,
peels back the man's shut eyelids and says,
look at me, and he does. Or is it the man
To you who'd read my songs of War
And only hear of blood and fame,
I'll say (you've heard it said before)
"War's Hell! " and if you doubt the same,
Today I found in Mametz Wood
A certain cure for lust of blood:
Where, propped against a shattered trunk,
In a great mess of things unclean,
Sat a dead Boche; he scowled and stunk
When you think of flowers
blooming you think of the
stages they must go through-
to get to the point of being
admired by the world, even
captivating a lover's eye-
as if it is waiting to be plucked and cherished eagerly.
But the ones I cherish
bloom in my heart. You planted
them there so unexpectedly.
Nicely curved and delectably wrapped in six yards of black cotton over a sleeveless bare-back silver blouse, a seductive goddess with divine lips - alluring, seductive, and sexy lips
Her eyes kissed by the waxing and waning moon - moaning the tales of unsatiated lust - such mesmerizing is the effect of her innocent eyes that they make a poet of a common man in me.
Her neck, a dainty - soft, smooth, bitter, and sweet, as my fingers curl around the flesh delicately - carefully not to bruise in places easily seen - so fierce is the passion that burns my desires, a raging forest fire, unstoppable and consuming.
She is crazy, volatile, gorgeous, and treacherous - impossible to resist. A summer tsunami laden with pheromones emanating from her voluptuous armpits - just a sheer glimpse melting my masculinity instantly.
I am in the most exquisite distress astride her, sweating and feeling an impetuous volcano strain at its peak inside wanting to explode my sweetest self all over her as I find myself loosening the backside buttons of her blouse — the clinking of her anklets and the tinkling of her colourful glass bangles in symphony with my sinful wishes.
The caravan of my lips and tongue travelled through her inviting oxters, her mounds of pleasure, her navel to her generous soft thighs between which my whole face has come and come ... tasting the spices of her melanin all over my famished tongue.
I hunger to devour the sweet temptress parting her sensual crimson lips - fermenting sweet juices - lingering with my delicious, luscious velvet tongue - moving in rhythm until after we hit that incredible peak as we pant in satisfaction, both blown away
As I gaze upon its beauty, I am mesmerized by its dance.
It caresses my eyes with its smooth yet erratic movements.
When it dances, from it wafts a warm aroma
The scent wraps around my nose and awakens my body to new life.
Awaken by its smell, my mouth waters for the taste of it.
The taste of love and heartbreak are combined in it,
The flavor is bittersweet.
I awoke to the fragrant smell of fresh roses. My nose twitched from the incredible aroma and when I slowly lifted my rested eyelids, a garden of Eden flooded my vision and I dreamily sat up in the satin bed, now padded with the vibrant hues of petals- all the shades of yellow, red, orange, pink and blue. I heard music in my head when I look at her - like a soundtrack of forbidden desires
On whispered breeze I hear her plea to feed upon her form I wish to feast and dine
I stand before her as I undress her - my lips tease the buttons of her blouse
Our eyes touch before our hands caress - our lips now part from sight that does arouse
I walk to her with swaying steps so bold - her hair unleashed, they tumble round my face
Down on my knees, my tongue seeks her navel and fingers reach above the curves to trace
My hands go around her neck and pull her in - I taste the lobe of ear and gently blow
the words of want and need desire to win and whisper pleasured treats she soon will know
I feel her tremble beneath my roving hands - her breath comes quick and knowing I lean in to tie her hands to chair with silken bands as I take command of mouth and trace your chin
I tip her head and then devour her neck - leaving marks of ownership just where I please