Time.
Stopped still.
Still stopped.
Sleeping asleep.
Eyes shut.
No peeping.
Crying in crystals.
Nobody's weeping.
Lost bits and bobs.
Copper knobs.
Plumbing equipment.
Serves other jobs.
Reaching and stretching.
Inside wretched.
Seams made of Lycra,
Shapely formation.
Extraordinary dreams.
Sure things with strangers.
Regardless of dangers.
Not me.
(c)Livvi

My my, how things change in a year,
from going from no-one to one,
you,
Yes,
You, who I hold dear,
You are stuck between my teeth,
Fixed in my eyes,
You're making me weak,
My strength you're depleting,
I'm fading away,
Too quickly,
I'm groping,
Ostracised by a phantom,
He is real,
he hides inside my head,
He really is there,
He's lucky,
So lucky that I can bother to find the time,
to waste on one so dismal,
and so dark,
and then I remember times in the park,
hopping on stepping stones,
while hiding his bottle in my coat,
He's getting rather frisky,
As I hold onto his whisky,
Protecting his heart of gold,
inside my summer jacket,
You're not allowed to drink outdoors,
all  of his assets hidden under my clothes!
(C) Livvi

I am an owl.
I'm tawny.
Sometimes I live in the nook,
In the dark corner in the back of the barn.
Daylight silences me.
Bring on the darkness,
Nights I'm in flight.
You rarely see me,
You hear me when I speak.
Eerily,unsettling.
And full of intrigue.
(c) Livvi

Whispering wood smoke.
Hovering fireflies.
Cloudless clear skies.
Move closer.
Huddle.
Snuggle.
Cuddle close.
Wise owl.
Tree lovers.
Laying in silence.
A touch.
A stroke.
A conception.
(c) Livvi

I'm thinking I hate people.
Lives spent playing games.
People, be they male or female are odd.
Okay, only at times.
They get under your skin.
A niggling pin.
They're grinning.
Ear to ear,
Lips meet lips.
Holding hands, clutching at fingertips and plastic straws.
Like the ones you met before.
A needle to wriggle.
You know what, I don't think it's true.
I have friends that are special...Probably you.
I have space, ****** space, newly created made of lace.
And I love it.
I love my friends.
New and old.
My space is skimmed with a coating of gold.
Yes I love my friends.
But, I also love my space.
(C) LIVVI

Paignton beach,
is out of reach.
It's much too far away.
The sand was hot,
but now it's not.

The sun shone brightly,
In the sky.
In summertime the locals fry.
The holiday makers too.
The visitors come to visit.
To fritter all their money.
They stay at home, snug and warm unless it's really sunny.
(C) Livvi

Birds flick on currents of breeze.
Lifted sun ways.
Sea water, as always ebbs and flows.
Onto the sand.
Its hand in hand with bladder wrack.
Deposits made.
Smell the smile.
Just for a while.
After walking down the mile of gold.
Find the promenade.
The tourists all gone.
Home to the city streets.
Praise be the perfection of these perfect seconds.
Sadly all gone.
No thieving gulls to disturb the peace.
The silence, evening time comes round.
The seashore sleeps, safe haven found.
(c)Livvi

The pain,
do you know it?
where your stomach's turning somersaults,
don't tell me you don't know it,
that feeling,
where snakes inhabit your stomach,
they're wriggling and reeling,
Bad dreams have pursued you,
into the shadows,
where pain once lived,
indignantly.
And from the other side you storm,
more confidence,
feeling strong!
(C) Livvi

Painful!

His pain kissed hers with gentleness,
Tried hard to make her better,
Pain bought sullen tears again,
She's feeling slightly better,
In their pain they dance together,
A duet in loves garden,
Her teardrops soothed by lacy handkerchief,
Held in her lovers hand,
Caught on a summer breeze,
Zephyr warmed their pain away,
While they spun upon the grass,
Her in sparkling emeralds,
In a dress of passion's hue,
Smiling in contentment,
As true love smiled down,
Spread love and flowers all around!
By ladylivvi1
A bit of a nonsense write **

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Pain kissed pain with gentleness,
Via sullen kiss,
Entrenched,
Deep in surburbia,
Where all the world had pain,

Pain was burning diamond,
With graphite pen,
In hand,
She etched,
A line across his heart,
While trying not to breach it,

Love declared her heart of hearts,
Could never impeach it,
Crime was not against the state,
No true criminal intent,
Was felt,

She was love,
In sapphire dress,
He swore he never meant it,
Passion enriched,
In royalty,
These two,

Two supreme beings,
In fantasy of velvet dance,
Tripped around the floor,
In poet's choice,
Caressed in time,
While painting pictures,
Spreading rhyme and reason,

Pain all quelled,
Fear repelled,
Love trawled in,
Painted town all red,
Angels praised,
Sweet darling,
All pain is dead!


By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Hatch closed.
Wall was blessed with multiple colours.
Rainbows on the table top.
Stripes.
Spots.
Hand prints everywhere.
Angelic footprints blessed the rug.
Showed where they'd marched.
Ceiling as if Sisteen Chapel.
Magnificence.
Minus quality of Michealangelo.
No Madonna here.
Could for heinous crimes.
Evidence been found.
They had such fun.
Paw prints of naughty pups obvious.
Oblivious to what they've done.
Only keys left.
Finger dabs of mini perpetrators.
Devil made work for idle impish hands.
Mother's audacity.
She went to water the loo.
She came back feeling blue to a world of painted hurricane.
What did mummy make of this mess.
Two minutes of children with paint pots.
Caused mummy distress!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Paint the sky with starlight,
Dotted from a spray so bright,
In variant scopes of spectrum light,
While in my mind she plays,
Navy of a night time, for the wrap of night is dressed,
As she stands static,head bowed,
Praying for daylight after night lights gone,
Watch her as she starts to pray for morn' that she created,
Espy her dawn streaked peachy sky, dressed in saline wash,
As it rains again insane,
On a clear day, what do you see,
Pure lure of azure blue,
Delighted as she missed the rain again,
Rainy days are such a pain!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Paper friend.
You flew away on the breeze.
Once that scribe, wrote loving words.
Deep into flaking bark.
Bark stripped off in preparation.
For serious pulping.

For silent he became.
Once was awesome.
When on the grass, we laid and held.
Where, so tenderly curled in luxury.
Needing nothing, no other than the other one.
Beneath primeval oak.
As a pair of skylarks, we played in the park.
Spirits of trees, dissected and pulped.
Re-modelled, created as love letters.
Perhaps, maybe a book.
Or maybe made a plane of paper, just so you could fly away.

By ladylivvi1
© 2014 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Papyrus!

Love contemplates creating the end of the world.
Between two poets.
Each with banners unfurled.
The madder it was, the madder it is
Was undeniably so real.
Love crucified lady and gent.
Everything was totally meant.
Blazing soul, dripping in the mid-day sun.
Now waiting impatiently to die.

In broken voice with sodden eyes.
He cried and held and held some more.
Wanted his love not to go.

Back in her domain.
Upon papyrus scroll she wrote.
Okay poetic imagination.
Papyrus just really tatty old piece of paper.
A letter, which became a portent of almost certain doom.
Weighed a tonne inside his head.

So still in bits she sits.
Wishing that she hadn't sent.
The letter led to her demise.
Still she sits and f**king cries.
By ladylivvi1

The midnight chimes hung in the autumn air.
A fleeting firefly passed by.
The late night children watched its antics
Laughing gleefully.
The clock face illuminated the fear in their faces.
A midnight ramble, such a gamble when you were twelve and running free.
Miss Thirteen was rarely seen
Had a mind of her own and the will of a goat.
Mother was late, she forgot to collect them.
Thirteen took charge as she always did.
Never accepting that she's still a kid.
Took hold of the other two,
Ben and Sue.
Held them firmly by their frozen hands.
Saying come on guys.
You know what we've got to do.
The call of the owl at the top of the tree.
Spoke in their kind of tongue that they understood.
Midnight in the wild wood not really the place to be.
They needed to be home tucked up in their beds.
With a mug of hot cocoa.
Thirteen announced in her very strict voice.
"Come on.
Get a wriggle on you've really no choice".
And they walked and they walked five miles or more.
Walked in through the unlocked door.
Mother,dear mother ,lay prone on the floor.
Her face somewhat deformed as the c**t broke her jaw.
Daddy, dear daddy, was drunk as a skunk.
Their sweet baby sister was locked up in the trunk.
(C) Livvi

Ouch she squealed,
an internal groan,
The sliver of glass knicked her finger,
Near down to the bone.
She patched it up with tissue,
to try to stop that bleed,
At that very moment,
she remembered the sailor man,
the one that she just freed.
Took a closer peep
carefully, remembering the glass, this time.
She actually thought, she saw him weep.

She thought she'd take a closer look,
His expression had changed,
He was no longer looking deranged.
As from the broken ship he'd fled,
The bottle was shattered but he wasn't dead.

The old sea dog,
in the gaberdeen mac,
Peeped in the doorway,
yes,
he came back.
Said he to the assistant ,
where is my ship?
The girl she explained with an expression that pained,
I'm so sorry Sir,
It met a grisly end.

"Once ,It was my ship said he,
When the bottle got broke,
I was set free.
I bet you never realised,
the bottled sailor boy was me."
(C) Livvi

Four hundred thousand soldiers slain, were drowned within unholy mud.

Corpses of the now redundant gave their best and got their worst.

Men in boots in July seen.

Images none desire upon the front of magazines.

Their guns were emptied, their lives were spent.

Lived for the moment, only lent.

Brave men all of them young,loyal and true.

Another Belgian battlefield echoed with the failing death.

So sad, boys, nearly men caught their last breath.

Bless the battlefield upon which they fell,relieved of sounds of gunfire, as they left the war raged hell.

Bravery from all sides shown,by young in spirit, never grown.

Guessing with death came freedom, unpleasant release.

(C)LIVVI

A night of glo sticks, in shades full of neon, of raffles and crackers.
All sadly gone.
The neon will fade.
As will do the writers of words.
Passed poets and musicians must all be at peace.
Those that passed today, may play at  Heavens Gate, a party for the rock stars gone.
A boogie woogie date.
Let the music play on

As Christmas is brewing, take a sip of a special cup.
A cup full of good cheer, but never enough.
To bring back to mind past lovers of passion who went out of their minds.
Who sang all the songs and spoke loving words, until what once was normal became so absurd.
The last days of the years I  cry no more tears ,except for the artist who left us today.
Dedicated to the late great Joe Cocker  and A.N.Other, my last one time lover.
(c) Livvi

Passion is a baby, always ravenous...in need of food...
Feed him regularly...from silver spoon.
If neglected passion becomes tragically dejected.
Lost in frozen mist, biting icicles on fingertips, fire guarded.
When fire's gone, eyes inferno dies,persona died inside.
Empty head, fractured heart smashed as broken mirror shards, full of memories, vile!
Hereby,  I do declare loss of passion's so unfair!
Copyright Livvi Kent 24/04/2013.

You said you loved me in the throes (throws) of passion.
Then you chucked me out.

(C) LIVVI

From the eye in the tomb,
silent safety and sanctity lingers.
The living scarab scuttles,
dashes through the airless atmosphere,
as if playing a role in a mummified movie,
The transformation of the once living body,
became his spirit as in death it lies.
From the goodness of human existence,
to once enriched by death.
Moving from a life in status.
Unto the world of Gods and spirits.
Such union between life and death,
rests only in the spirit world,
within the pyramid's design.
Resting noiselessly in eternity.
After birth came death,
a cyclical circle,
an eternal pattern emerges,
while the cadaver lay,
He's peacefully at rest.
Safety in the ancient tomb,
his safety laying there.
Until the robbers came.
(C) Livvi

The fridge is breathing like a dying man.
A rattling death.
Blue light flashing overhead.
Just a smoke detector.
It's own job to do.
Makes me aware.
I'm safe when I am there.
Not alien invaders, as first believed.
Deceived,
Dreamy.
Pretty awake.
However tired.
Half asleep, not far from dead.
Sleep is evasive.
Lack of choice.
One hour donated.
Not loving the night.
So overrated.

Lost a day today.
Somehow mislaid it on the way.
Slept from nine until half past three-ish
How I wish I never had to.
Work in night nurse zoo.
Night shift.
Such joy.
Joy to be me.
The sorrow's flowing over from eyes so itchy full of grit.
Another one all too shortly.
Love my job.
Night's however;
Part of life as a nurse,
The nurse's curse.
(c)LIVVI

A free bird I am,
I am free,
but I am in no way cheap,
I'll sell my personality,
to my patients daily,
just to earn a living wage,
I smile at you,
you smile at me,
as I rabbit on,
I have patients,
lots of them,
and lots of it,
they seem to like my pitter patter,
somewhat like raindrops,
sometimes I hold their hand,
but only clinically,
I'm not sure why,
they like me,
but they tell me that it's so,
I guess they really must do.
(C) Livvi

Mr McCormick whacked her with his stick.
His nurse that was, he didn't want to be bothered.
He was reading the paper.
A political persuasion.
He'd sat on his glasses, so he couldn't see.
Frustration aggression maybe the theory.
Mrs Brady, a lovely old lady.
Elderly, but beautiful as she reported how she cavorted and partied when younger.
She's missing it so much, a passionate hungers.
With stiff old joints she wanted to dance.
A bit of a stumble, potential to tumble.
She lives in a world of being risk assessed.
Mr Jones an ******* of bones.
Poor fellow he gave up on all of his food.
He knew what he wanted.
His family all tried to persuade him.
To eat his meals.
He gave up on living, henceforth; so he'd only sip from a caring cup.
The nurse bade him goodbye, as from this life he slipped.
Stand outside on the pavement.
The window's wide open.
See his spirit fly free.
(C) Livvi
ALL NAMES IN THIS PIECE ARE PURELY FICTIONAL.

Relinquish not the love shared in mid summers' heat.
Love only in the light of the sun.
Bathe only in the glow of the midnight moon.
Magnificence displayed majestically, as if the plume of the peacocks tail.
May the peacock strut eternally.
May the arrogance and malificence, you hold within.
May they not control your imperfect soul.
For you are the pauper, dressed in your robes of gold.
For there are no perfect souls.
(C) Livvi

http://s1070.photobucket.com/user/Oliviathepoeticlady/media/2f9f258d791f4099ae2562ecf32ca6caloveversion2_zps92779305.jpg.html­

Waiting in anticipation for tomorrow to arrive.
Currently, tomorrow hides, it's lying sultry in the shadows, behind my cobweb eyes.
Tomorrow a day of bounty, falls from money tree.
Yipee!
(c)LIVVI 2014

Waiting for God at the end of the world.
Not sure where he is.
Guessing he's running a little late.
For the first time ever in my life, a late running date is great.

Perhaps he's sat in his lodge.
Thinking and scratching his head.
A conundrum rushing round his brain.
What to do with the state of his planet.

He sits and enters conversation with his brothers and sisters.
Enters into a vibrant debate with Mohammed, the great prophet.
One of his greatest mates.

Buddha, a peaceful soul.
A role akin to God's brother.
He sat down cross legged, in almost perfect lotus position.
To evoke a little peace the purpose of this tranquil mission.

And the three of them spoke to  George Harrison and Lennon.
That was Lennon, not Lenin!
They all shared a similar perspective, the view suggesting  "give peace a chance".

The Hindu deities all fed their input to the  other chappies.
None of the religions wanted all out war.
After much discussion everyone left happy!
And that's why he was late.
(C) LIVVI

She sleeps ever gentle on his mind.
Amid his thoughts and fiery dreams.
He shells peanuts with  his teeth, to feed her daily.
A protein fix.
He is enough to fill her kind heart, with roses scarlet red..
Twisted and turned into a perfect crown.
Their thorns destroy her, as round her head they tighten.
He swears he never meant to frighten.
(C) LIVVI

I love my pearl necklace.
The leftovers of my richness.
Now, I love my pearl necklace still.
You loved me, left me.
You made me sore.
Left me with a bitter pill .
Pearl tears stuck in my throat.
(C) LIVVI

Just pebbles on a lonely shore.
Eroded by a constant ebb and flow.
Once were rough around the edges,
Quartz stones,embedded far within.
Bring forth the merman, who chips away with all his heart.
Only happens at midnight you know.
The merman, breaks the pebbles down, retrieves their gifts of crystalline dreams.
Requests permission from Neptune, the father of the seas.
To find a lonely mermaid, to be betrothed to him, so mer  folk can continue, to ever live and breed.
Free to rave those wild seas.
In love, they breed on rugged beaches, discreetly out of eye -shot of the eyes of man and beast.
(C) Livvi

Drop a penny in the wishing well.
Watch the ripples emanate.
If wishes were kisses I have but a few.
Those that I have.
Will share only with you!

The ripples will magnify.
In our minds eye.
Pour oil on water.
Somewhat troubled.
Watch colours on the shining surface emulsify.
Play silly boy and girlish games.
Episodic I-Spy.

Count the pennies in our ***.
To see how much we haven't got.
Money doesn't matter much.
Missing feeling is true cost.

Ride the rainbow.
Until she vacates.
Vanishes back from spectrum in grace.
At her base is a crock full of gold.
Hidden from lovers.
Two lovers hunting, afore they get old.
She vanishes rapidly.
Back into the mist.






By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

I am a passion filled woman.
Somehow I squash my self into the end of my pen.
My pen draws on my inner soul in incredible, indelible ink.
Or at least that's what I like to think.
My pen steals my emotions.
Wholly distorts them and scribbles them out.
Silently putting the world to rights.
(C) Livvi

Whatever I write,
I write whatever,
Whatever I fancy,
Nancy,
Whatever I like,
I like puppies and kittens,
I like sunshine and smiles,
I like walking on beaches,
on the far reaches,
way away from the tar pits,
the tar pits of fossils,
the run of fast traffic,
dashing as ants,
I write of tree tops and hollyhocks,
of eyeballs and shopping malls,
of death and dying,
of children crying,
about heaven and hell,
talking of love pure,
sometimes just lust,
of those who we trust,
especially those in Sunday best,
dressed for religion,
Guess what,
I'm me,
I don't write like the rest!
(C) Livvi

Darting as ants through the city of their queen,
Flashing their smiles are they rush,
Creeping through silent passages furtively,
As mandatory predators waiting for the ****,
Obscure collection of people hurrying between the pollutant fumes,
Mother snatches angel child's arm while dashing for the bus,
Old boy chokes on a wasted ****, discarded from another's lips,
She was sat upright on the 185,
She slumbered, in tranquility's dreamland,
Poor thing, laid across the spoils of her trip,
She did not wake,
The back floor of the bus awash with *****'s stench,
She was young,
Tried to wake her, without even a hint of a flicker behind her fatigued eyes,
Sorrowful, I felt as I  left her on the bus to her tide of ***** flow!
Livvi Kent June 2013

In a house full of silence, a cavern of whistling sand, a repetition of sonic echoes.
Running through the shiny conch shell of the sleeping eardrums.
A timpani of tinnitus, an obstacle to rest.
Insert a set of headphones, just to help you sleep.
May drown out the pure white noise, as voiceless silence so annoys.
(c) LIVVI

Lady take his hand.
Only when invited.
He carries a cargo full up with magnificence.
A lifetime of integrity.
That man will guide you.
And you will guide him too
He knows not what you look like.
Nor ever will he see your tears fall.
He can feel you near him.
He can sense your precious seconds,
as they drift by on your breath.
He can identify your failings at the touch of his hand and in the tone of your voice.
Shadows and lights are all that he sees.
Can you see his white stick?
It's warning of his coming venture.
(C) Livvi

At the bus stop,a beautiful dormouse nibbled.
Gnawing away at a roll filled with sausage.
The freak with the tea-bag face.
Let's call her Alice.
Fair maid.
Mousy fair hair cradled her shoulders.
Reminiscent of Wonderland.
No blue and white pinafore dress.
Just a pair of leggings wrapped in complex patterns.
A medley of cream, brown and black.
Fluffy ebony boots of winter.
One missing thing no Cheshire cat here.
The road is rather too hectic for a cat to come and frolic.
Not even a fantasy cat with a grin.
Alice's mother stood close at hand.
Protecting her as they wait.
Quick as a flash.
The bus came.
Right one for me.
Doubt if I'll see bus-stop Alice ever again.
By ladylivvi1

© 2014 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Her clothes were chosen for her.
Dressed by her favourite friend.
She had no choice at all.
Never allowed to buy her own.
Daddy always bought them.
Her shape was perfect.
One all the other woman wanted.
Some were rather jealous of her body beautiful.
Rather inflexible.
Hair golden hair was made of nylon.
Stiff, brittle and unbrushable, but never out of place.
She never washed or had a bath, her make up hung in perfect place.
She never really said a lot.
Played only with little girls, with frilly frocks and golden curls.
Daddy bought another one, his daughter moulded on her plastic Barbie doll!
(C) Livvi

The world was shiny once upon a perfect time.
Like a marble it became tattered and forlorn.
As it rolled around all the fields of war.
It's perfect opacity stained, with streaks of blood from fallen friends.
As brothers and lovers decrying each other underneath the dark nights  bed covers.
They kiss on the lips, as their souls became ripped entrenched on the tip of the ice berg that lured.
In a harsh last adieu they fumbled and grumbled as malevolent teenagers.
This war came along and crafted perfect strangers.
(c)Livvi

Played on the stage.
A passion of poetry.
Wove it's magic over the crowd.
Got them excited, becoming quite loud.
Started off with "suicide", such a cheery note.
Followed it with "re-incarnation".
Thought I'd lighten up a bit.
Local pubs and babies impending, strange material, so never ending.
Comes to something, when this old dear, made the intelligent youngsters sit up and hear.
Begged me to come and play, feed them poetic pleasure another day.
Left the stage so I could go home, got collared outside by one who was buzzing.
Shook my hand, said I was cool and please to come again.
What more could I say with a smile and squeak.
"All being well, I'll see you next week"
(C)Livvi

In land of dark depression in hollow hills, an emptiness,
Where only pain can dwell,
Engulfed in land of loneliness where only night time lives,
A night that lives with out bounds,
The heart of my land is astounded,
Pressure takes you by the hand,
It's tormented as heat sears with blisters,
Scarring blisters deep as a myriad of agony,
Compelled to rip my being out
Escaped from a tormented river,
That longs to flow,
Be free,
Feeds your eyes with needles,
You're blind,
Unable to envisage the detriment,
Which is sneaking slowly by,
Too melancholy to cry,
To unhappy to grieve,
In this life of poignancy,
~Burdened by undesirable load~
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Scratch,
Screech,
The sound of the knife as it's scraping,
across the plate.
The diner on the other side of the room.
He's not in control of his knife, fork and spoon.

Outside the bar,
In the smoking area,
on the side of the plates left sitting there,
the butts of the smoker,
the drinkers don't care,
,stepped out of the bar cause they're needing a smoke,
no joke,
discard their tag butts anywhere,
Do you know what they really don't care!

Jingle jangle,
Beep beep ring,
you're eating your meal,
someones phone rings,
never quiet and discreet.
If you really wanna chat,
get together to meet and greet.
Let everyone sit down and eat!
(C) Livvi

Pets they give us cherished love.
I love my dog so very much.
My funny fluffy puppy.
Stole my shoe.
Just one.
****** dog she won.
Had to go and buy some more.
My shoe for work it was.
It is no joke the blooming beast
Did not bump her off!
No matter how cross I got.
I could hurt not!

I wish I had a rabbit.
It would not steal my shoes.
However;
Everywhere I'd walk would be filled with rabbits poohs

Thought I'd like a *****, but have one anyway.
It doesn't bite or scratch.
But it's a ****** lovely cat.

Feelings are a fantasy,
Star studded,
Very stupid game,
Emotions are just power blessed,
Laced with blood and brain.

A rare exotic tiger,
Love,
She hides in long grass ,
As he dances,

On graves of darkness,
Crouches,
Ready to destroy.

She,
That's me,
A beautiful trinket,
Locked in encrusted jewel box,

Not playing for peals of wedding bells weals,
Wedding bells just give me hell,
In a hotchpotch mess of fools desires,

I am your weeping cross,
Laid by the wayside,
Please repent,
Hell,
I'm not begging you.

Weltschmerz,(world weary)
In this whisky bottle world,
Heart pain,
The fantasy in which you hang,
Not a real man,

Just mixed in with life's emotions,
Spilled over,

Stuck in spiders web,
A dream of online lies.
While indecision cries!
A fool I am,
A fool you are!
Adorned with mania's crown,
Wrapped up in satin dress!

By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)