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Open Poetry #43
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begatting of masters
| Open Poetry #43 |
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begatting of masters |
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Dark Stranger Member Patricius
since 2001-03-19
Posts 13631West Coast 
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there are those afternoons by the lake with creaking boards and eyes that wonder of your stride when those buttons are flirting and something silver shimmers like the laughing eyes of lovers from the water to the sun wondering if depths are welcome when heat touches surfaces as slow palmed seduction perhaps my mind strums your fragile bow and you bend to bring me the music from the woman skin of your instrument learned by the finger's listening tuning again the virgin experience and we are souls of soft leather string ________________ daark |
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SEA 
Moderator
Member Seraphic
since 2000-01-18
Posts 22676with you |
*goodness* and *sighs*  this is so beautiful |
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Margherita Member Seraphic
since 2003-02-08
Posts 22236Eternity |
You make me collapse into the beauty of your verses. Unsurpassed inspiration seems to be your daily gift ... and ours as you share it so generously. Love, Margherita  |
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Gaelynsgirl Member
since 2008-07-18
Posts 175Ont. Canada |
Curiously, all my descriptors begin with 's' Suggestive, Sensual, superlative, seductive... This leather string is still vibrating... she sighs.... |
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Dark Stranger Member Patricius
since 2001-03-19
Posts 13631West Coast |
Ms suesea, thank you babe for the soft side of your smile ______________ Ms mar, you make me smile dear one, thank you ________________ Ms lynda, sinsations simply stated soothe satiated satyrs. Thanks lady |
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Alison
since 2008-01-27
Posts 9318Lumpy oatmeal makes me crazy! |
Once upon a time, a weaver of magic wove words to create a tapestry of words. The words were like a rainbow of color, but instead of color - they were magic and became a rainbow of images and sounds. As the Weaver spun magic images, a woman came upon his art. She was one who slept fitfully and roamed the darkness, murmuring words softly to herself. The Night Woman stopped and gazed upon his creations. And she smiled as images flitted before her. They enticed her to dance among them until night became a canvas that painted dreams. She slept among the tapestries of his visions. The End |
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Dark Stranger Member Patricius
since 2001-03-19
Posts 13631West Coast |
ms ali-san...I have heard of such a woman...in viking lore she is called the oatmeal vixen...thanks babe |
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