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He played in her lushness all night long
She had a moist garden of much pleasure
Within it he placed his pearl's treasure
Each stroke of his ardor twas truly strong
Her ******* were so scrumptious of tang
She did so delight his sampling of her
Sensuality set both of them astir
Their meeting had a hothouse guitar twang
Her inner petals held him with a thrall
Their sweat beads did flow on the bed sheets
The nocturnal hours did so captivate
Primal urges upon them made a call
In the starlight they performed their feats
Which did of the two so well satiate
 Aug 2014 Gladys P
Rob Rutledge
The rain falls in whispers,
Meanders through the
Cracks in our lives.
The sky claps sardonically
Prophetic, pathetic fallacy
Alive and well.
As time swells and breathes
Solaris flares, coughs and heaves.
Scorched earth, ashen leaves.
The rain is gone but so's
The emerald green.
fecund and fertile the fields are now
the spring time sun cascades and endows
sprouting colored blooms on the flower stems and trees
who's floral show is made to please
dales and dells graced with spring glories
birds twittering their pretty stories
speechless eyes cannot believe
the paintbox of hues they perceive
spring is such a stunning time of the year
attired in a florid palette so vividly clear
 Aug 2014 Gladys P
Ann M Johnson
I am starting my day with a poem in my mind
A song in my heart
The combination is like a sweet melody
I hope they stay in Harmony throughout the day
a blue parchment sky
reigns over our bush terrain
brilliant is its hue
across the Kansas plains
in nineteen thirty five
a soot black dust storm
did relentlessly drive

it consumed everything
in it's blinding path
houses and sheds were
covered in a dark bath

drought and the failure
of good rains to fall
had caused this most
horrifying gloomy wall

the folks of the plains
thought the end was nigh
so they loaded up their kit
and said goodbye

over the plains country
the dust held a gritty splay
and its dark ***** plume
lasted for some days

states further south
of Kansas were affected too
as it swept into their borders
with it's black slew
A picture of the Kansas Dust Storm, in 1935 prompted this write.
ravens squawked
on that half moon night
the people in the village
were filled with fright

a scary portent lingered
upon the forest dell
the black sorcerer
was mixing a horrid spell

winds whirled
in an agitated manifest
evil twas the potion
prophetic its guest

horror sprung
from the cauldron's brew
atop the hills
smokey fires did spew

eerie groans emanated
inside the sorcerer's chest
the incarnate devil
dwelt in his breast

he opened his mouth
to consume a gnarly toad
as the fleeing villagers
ran along the forest road
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