pleasantly bothered,
with ***** came a violent lust,
honeysuckle, you suckled me
thunders struck as bodies aligned,
tongues entwined

I rocked with your rhythm,
your fingers had me opening up
like I was among the Primroses
you stroked at night
drunken eyes, gasping mouths

savage, reluctant, insatiable
you are, while I was, and still am
bewildered, dazed, but unfazed.
with the intoxication of spirits,
came a heavenly sin

Your aura is all I need.
To feel the transport of cordiality.
Your soul is as lovely as a primrose,
And joyous like a rainbow.
Where else will I taste such bliss?

A haven of brilliant colours lit up her eyes...
And her ears caught the faint murmur of an ancient song of the flower gods...
Her tender hands felt the papery body of her new friends...
And affectionately did she blow a kiss to their hearts...

She often wondered how her life had filled with such colours of the primroses...
That she had no chance of recalling the dungeon trapped days of her life...

Her world had become one with the blues, reds, yellows, oranges and violets of her new companions...

....

And this was how when he left her...
She never left herself!

puny pink primrose
pursuing phantom pleasure
pecking playful puff

spring's seasonal hue
didst come in a primrose bloom
of vibrant pink blush

Your shy smile, in the buds
blooming late by mellow winds;

distant in the leaves turned golden
your fiery hair;

the city below, still asleep,
stuttering in the lanes, your voice,
in the coffee morning shop.

my heart, all the butterflies.

Your dreamy smile, in
the toast maker lady at the kiosk.

You said I should go to Primrose Hill
So I went to Primrose Hill.

and I found you everywhere.

I told you not to worry, everything’s alright.
I’m here, watching raindrops trickle down the window pane,
Making mountains out of molehills, hidden only by the night.

Upon Primrose Hill, the city in sight,
I’d live this moment again, and again.
I told you not to worry, everything’s alright.

I fear sometimes that all you see is a glowing red light,
You’ll notice and whisper ‘don’t worry, fear is my domain’.
Making mountains out of molehills, hidden only by the night.

We’re two magpies that come together in flight.
Your incandescent heart is a match for my incandescent veins,
I told you not to worry. Everything’s alright.

My words sometimes stutter, a sort of stage fright
That sets in from my stomach through to my brain.
Making mountains out of molehills, hidden only by the night.

Under this blanket of stars, darling, sleep tight.
This feeling I hold shall not wane.
I told you not to worry, everything’s alright;
(We’re just) making mountains out of molehills, hidden only by the night.

Blueberry bluebells
sing, imperceptibly
sighing
against a backdrop of
quiet cerulean.

You know
it is Spring when
their hazy grasses
sprout beautifully
thick in the blades
between the primrose,
and when the sun
infuses shafts
of bronze to the lilac
through the giant
ash's baby
leaves.