#bewitching
Those eyes
Those bewitching eyes
Enamor me no end
Aqua cool
They tug at my soul
In their depth I blend
Besotted by them, I am
They leave me in a jam
My emotions I can’t mend
Crimson is her hue
The eyes, aqua blue
I guess that’s the trend
If I confuse you
You should see her too
You will comprehend
If I had eyes like those
You too would drift from prose
As I did for this Twitter friend
If I were another man
I’d have a different plan
To be forever content!
Mar 23, 2015
Mar 23, 2015 at 8:23 PM UTC
Out of a **** he made Great Art
It was no ordinary **** no!
It was straight from the heart, that
****
It had lain too long in the dark
Now was it's time to start
To make its bid for freedom... and for stardom.
It flew like a dart that **** from the
heart
Like an arrow strung from Cupids
bow
Little did it know how luminous it'd
glow
Becoming one of the Greats in the
Farting Canon.
It was probably the greatest **** poem
ever written
In my own humble opinion
It was very daring and it smelt of
onion
It was certainly the fairest fartiest
poem I ever seen
If it was one of the three Musketeers
It would have to have been
D'artagoine.
It inflated like a balloon, blew up like
a great glass bubble
Then it popped and headed off
toward England
Flying further afield than any ****
had ever flown
It touched people's hearts, bewitched
every nation
Resounded around the world
Yea! was heard in every Kingdom.
It flew long, it rounded the Horn
Like a Lark, that **** it soared and
sung
It was no boring old ****
It was far fartier and fruiter than that
It was a King of Farts
Way above the fartiest of farters and
all the farting Arthurs
It was the real King Arthur
The King Arthur of all farts and
Farters.
A real Belter was that **** that came
from the heart
That had all the Angels singing in
their cloisters,
A real work of Art just like Mozart
Or remember... remember your
Shakespeare
"Hark! A **** a **** Whereforth art ?
Thou ****
It played its part, that **** yea! it
wielded its Excalibur.
O! there's nothing I'd rather do than lie here blowing sweet bubbles next
to you
You! on your little flutey flute flute and
Me! on my big Bass Trombone.
Jul 24, 2020
Jul 24, 2020 at 7:24 PM UTC
distractions are allowed
even when fire controls your tongue
bewitching in its sway
there’s little space for embarrassment
relentless in its tide
in yearning, you recoil
Apr 19, 2020
Apr 19, 2020 at 3:30 PM UTC
_Bright anime eyes,
Cat-astrophically bewitching;
Forty winks required._
Sep 6, 2019
Sep 6, 2019 at 3:30 PM UTC
Via the phone
When I heard your voice
Having a friendly tone--
At long last you have won--
My diffidence and anxiety gone
An electrifying ecstasy
Charged my heart's zone,
Who fate was
To ceaselessly lament and moan.
The vein inundating feeling
You evoked, anon,
Percolated down to every bone
To each love thirst
To atone!
Aug 20, 2019
Aug 20, 2019 at 4:30 AM UTC
drawing the ladies in
by plying a magnetic charm
the guy possesses
quite an alluring arm
no woman can resist
his pulling potency
that is set on the
highest frequency
he engages a strong
bewitching spell
to motion the females
into enticement's well
a most beguiling
magic he'll employ
in riveting the gals
onto his alloy
the gent's power
is so forceful of zeal
captivating women
with a striking appeal
Oct 2, 2016
Oct 2, 2016 at 1:04 AM UTC
I am from the seasons
That never ends
They repeat their memories
Repeating them selves
Dead branches white snow
Blue sky the sun’s glow
Red leaves the winds blow
Green grass the river’s flow
These bewitching seasons enamor me no end
Memories tug at my soul
In their depth I blend
Besotted by seasons I am
They leave me in jam
Clocks turn, Seasons change
Memories and moments one can’t exchange
Accepting each season
Approaching each moment
I breathe in cold frigid air
And exhale warm clouds
Seasons are happy
Seasons are sad
Seasons are beautifully mad
I am from the seasons
That never ends
They repeat their memories
Repeating themselves.
May 1, 2015
May 1, 2015 at 10:27 AM UTC
I love to watch you sing in your car.
The way you play invisible pianos and guitars.
The way you scream out all your favorite lines.
The way your face tells the story of the music.
I love to watch our hands.
When they are interlocked and unbreakable.
When they search for one another constantly.
When they run over each others bones.
When they pull our bodies closer together.
I love to watch us.
Becoming one.
Becoming something more.
Becoming better than before.
And when you reach for me in the dark of your car, singing out the words of one of our songs, just to find me missing.
Know that I am saturated in the lyrics you scream, and the fingerprints on your window.
(i.r)
May 23, 2014
May 23, 2014 at 1:57 AM UTC