Tea and cup, ready,
Birds in garden weaving dream,
Kettle wakes, calling.

It's raining and it's cold.
Let me wear your favorite sweater
And let me put on warm socks.
Forget about my pants.
Play a Radiohead song.
Take my hand.
Pull me close to you.
Wrap your arms around my waist.
Move us to the music.
Don't break your hold.
I'll bury my head in your neck
And your hands will slip under your sweater
So they can slide on my bare skin.
I'll plant little kisses on your neck.
I can feel your standing ovation.
Your hands will go down my thighs
Bringing them to your waist.
I'm hugging you with my whole body.
You continue to move us slowly to the music
And your lips devour mine.
You bite them.
I bite harder.
The Roman Columns are standing tall, and strong.
And La Rose is painted with morning dew.
Tonight, it will rain on the Roman Columns
And La Rose will unfold just like at the break of dawn.




-LynnAA

Thine stars do shine about the flowers grow
abound cover you in roses of my love
intricate I desire unknown. I yearn to cite my poem
my ode to you in public:
    When you my fairest flower
light green eyes desire
          just once could look upon me
my heart would flutterby!
      suns would shine perpetually,
sense would wake me,
       for you are a dream,
my dearest:

My words, if I could ever be so bold, to say alone,
yet in public, glisten here. I hope you see.
then glisten, for me.