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"ardor" poems
A white porcelain coffee cup she gently raises up to her lips with a satiated look on her face; this gift, a much awaited moment attained by satisfying her yen not for choicest, gourmet food alone. Those dark droopy eyes, suggest a luxurious languor, she does cherish, as long as the after tremors would last. Slyly she looks at his swollen red lips with a crafted guilt, it gives her yet another high, sending ripples over her ******* his eyes do a recce on this then go up to her lips,finds his ardor last hour had  made them crimson all over, throwing his head backwards he smiles at her.
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Feb 15, 2016
Feb 15, 2016 at 4:58 AM UTC
The After Hour
Ecstatic bird songs pound the hollow vastness of the sky with metallic clinkings— beating color up into it at a far edge,—beating it, beating it with rising, triumphant ardor,— stirring it into warmth, quickening in it a spreading change,— bursting wildly against it as dividing the horizon, a heavy sun lifts himself—is lifted— bit by bit above the edge of things,—runs free at last out into the open—!lumbering glorified in full release upward— songs cease.
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19.5k
Dawn
# Each body part sizzled in pure pleasure in the blissed wake of your oral efforts brought forth the waves of rapturous delight...                                        Spurs poetic inspiration                                         in equal liberation                                         of desires to please.                                         Bodies transpose                                         in fluid motion                                         as brazen eyes meet.         Savor the voluptuous image before you.         Indulge your eyes in my carnal halo         before they roll to the back of your head. On all fours knees between your thighs tips of swollen breast caress your chest tasting fresh honey upon lips in a kiss.                                         Ripples of ardor                                          hover                                          by wet trails                                          of sensual kisses                                          suckling towards                                          the apex. Breathe in the slow motion pace that pulsates eagerness to the fore tumescing bulge leaking with anticipation of viscous lava.         Tickles of silken hair         against flesh edges closer. Emerging subtle grumbles in deep resonance betray your impatience . Hands tightly twine in tangled hair to maneuver the treasure hunt.                                          Licked lips pause                                          at the sight of fire                                          burning in                                          glazed gazes                                          before engulfing                                          the throbbing member. Plump ruby lips greet velvety texture in a slow deep dive. Tongue curls around the flavor in a dulcet embrace.                                          Moans release                                          as grip tightens                                          in my hair                                          settles the                                          rhythmic pace                                          to taste in an                                          oscillating dance.         The masculine aroma of heady musk         lingering there, arouses my appetite. With my enthusiasm attuned to your preferred rhythm suckling, slurping surface and dive in measured unison.                                           Break of breath                                           allows tongue                                           freedom to roam below,                                           licking, soft kissing                                           the tender hammock                                           of testicles.         Tongue and lips escalate higher         to mount another assaulting dive         deeper in the depths         of the cusp in cavity. Wetted fingers probe even lower circling superficially as gasp escapes your heavy breath; flaming eyes lock.                                           Finger dips in                                           with expert finesse                                           gorging hardened growth                                           within a wrapped hand. Thighs tighten with rocking grip. Head thrusts onward, drilling forward in each dive.         Salvia slips         fingers grip         lips dip Engorged swell, flesh tightens in an intensity of volcanic eruption ...         HALTS         assault Pace retracts. Loosened lips kiss tip. *“Soon sweetheart, your time will *** inside me as we surrender to synergy."* #
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Sep 10, 2018
Sep 10, 2018 at 7:51 AM UTC
love...................................lust (act II)
# Each body part sizzled in pure pleasure in the blissed wake of your oral efforts brought forth the waves of rapturous delight...                                        Spurs poetic inspiration                                         in equal liberation                                         of desires to please.                                         Bodies transpose                                         in fluid motion                                         as brazen eyes meet.         Savor the voluptuous image before you.         Indulge your eyes in my carnal halo         before they roll to the back of your head. On all fours knees between your thighs tips of swollen breast caress your chest tasting fresh honey upon lips in a kiss.                                         Ripples of ardor                                          hover                                          by wet trails                                          of sensual kisses                                          suckling towards                                          the apex. Breathe in the slow motion pace that pulsates eagerness to the fore tumescing bulge leaking with anticipation of viscous lava.         Tickles of silken hair         against flesh edges closer. Emerging subtle grumbles in deep resonance betray your impatience . Hands tightly twine in tangled hair to maneuver the treasure hunt.                                          Licked lips pause                                          at the sight of fire                                          burning in                                          glazed gazes                                          before engulfing                                          the throbbing member. Plump ruby lips greet velvety texture in a slow deep dive. Tongue curls around the flavor in a dulcet embrace.                                          Moans release                                          as grip tightens                                          in my hair                                          settles the                                          rhythmic pace                                          to taste in an                                          oscillating dance.         The masculine aroma of heady musk         lingering there, arouses my appetite. With my enthusiasm attuned to your preferred rhythm suckling, slurping surface and dive in measured unison.                                           Break of breath                                           allows tongue                                           freedom to roam below,                                           licking, soft kissing                                           the tender hammock                                           of testicles.         Tongue and lips escalate higher         to mount another assaulting dive         deeper in the depths         of the cusp in cavity. Wetted fingers probe even lower circling superficially as gasp escapes your heavy breath; flaming eyes lock.                                           Finger dips in                                           with expert finesse                                           gorging hardened growth                                           within a wrapped hand. Thighs tighten with rocking grip. Head thrusts onward, drilling forward in each dive.         Salvia slips         fingers grip         lips dip Engorged swell, flesh tightens in an intensity of volcanic eruption ...         HALTS         assault Pace retracts. Loosened lips kiss tip. *“Soon sweetheart, your time will *** inside me as we surrender to synergy."* #
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Fragmented lives entangled but asunder in our journey as our paths cosmically connect in a romance of the arts And who's to say what's real to touch or deeply feel what will truly last or simply where to start So I’ll paint you alla prima as I feel you playing me in warm colors of merging ardor a wet blending of artistry my brush strokes of your body painted in my mind of impressions blushed in passion in hues I can’t describe Suspended in the moment floating on a breeze I revel in this picture painted music almost in disbelief, unthinking… knowing every nuance of our love found only in our dreams Like children in parallel play I’ll finger the keys and slip the locks of all your orchestrations filling the walls of my concerts halls with deep splattered tones in pinks and blues the hues that forever bind us And we’ll not look back nor forward but hang here in the moment to display our Painted Song in the eyes of giggly children both doing our own thing together on a string curated
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Aug 21, 2017
Aug 21, 2017 at 6:22 AM UTC
Painted Song
there is a moon sole in the blue night amorous of waters tremulous, blinded with silence the undulous heaven yearns where in tense starlessness anoint with ardor the yellow lover stands in the dumb dark svelte and urgent (again love i slowly gather of thy languorous mouth the thrilling flower)
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15.2k
There Is A
The vulnerability of baring myself fully clenches the belly panics the heart stands my hairs on end. It is truly the most terrifying thing to stand in ones authenticity. And yet. And yet. The courage it takes. The great tender strength. The spine tingling elation. The heart swells, and magic. The naked beauty borne, in feeling you have nothing to hide. The spirit touched ardor of a bare approach to life. The openings and the mystery. The expressions: tripping, falling, incomplete, misguided. The wonderful mistakes, elucidating lessons. The perfect imperfections. The easing of honesty. The engendered humility. The profundity. The sense of being touched, touching, and in touch with life. The unmasked revelations, of full spectral undulation. The this. The that. The I can accept it all. The dropping of shame. The incredible liberation, in shedding that shame. The finding forgiveness for self, for other. The quiver of unknowing. The sweet caress of potential. The dread. The sorrows. The uncertainties. All making room for, in their acknowledgement: Room for what else is there. Room for laughter, and joy, and luminescence. Room for flirtation, dancing, spontaneity. Breaking open. Melting into Love. Soaring on the wings of Truth. The hush, of anxious worry. The Goodness bestowed. The empathy. The compassion. The connection. The holy restoration of creative flow. The fires of real passion. And everything. And everything. And Beauty.
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Mar 13, 2014
Mar 13, 2014 at 12:12 PM UTC
Vulnerability
Be my muse tonight, my love.   Inspire me in my dreams. In poetry, I'll think of you where starlight always gleams. As Morning Glories catch the sun, I'll capture you in rhyme. My heart will sing your praises while you make my spirit climb. The raindrops are a mockery that try to match my tears, which fall like diamonds on my cheeks each time our parting nears. Your eyes like pools of amber often take my breath away. Your lips demand attention and my ardor doth obey. Be my muse tonight, my love.   Ensnare me with a kiss. Enslaved my heart shall ever be a prisoner of your bliss.
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Jun 11, 2017
Jun 11, 2017 at 10:48 PM UTC
Be My Muse
# *Poetry comes back to me where long there had been none. Lyrical, the imagery, once shared and then was done. Thoughts of such sincerity in words that grace the page, Race across the span of time that bridge the gap of age. Trusting in the ardor that has cooled and healed with time, I read again the tender lines of kindred souls, in rhyme. Oh spirit of another age, reach out from time and space. Fan the embers turned to ash and torpid ruin replace.* #
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May 18, 2018
May 18, 2018 at 10:53 AM UTC
Lost in Poetry
awakening with the gradual rise of the subdued heather hued sun a palpable spectral silence permeated the air the anticipation of celebration intercepted by an enveloping phantom black malaise hiding in obscure shadows the terror of the twin towers final doom elucidated quivers of melancholic nuances rippling through the greying vicinity my birthday september 11th a tuesday my night to sing at abravanel hall with the utah symphony unable to serenade death our voices remained indubitably silenced in hushed wistful reverence ensuing 9/11s channel somber sentiments cloaked with annihilation while dark visions occupy smudged iphone screens this anniversary i will dissipate despair transmuting dark despondency splashing all with lucent petals of delight i’ll live this day with passionate intensity and those subsequent with equal ardor ferociously painting back the light i will raise my voice with effervescence and sing in wild abandon for my precious brothers that were lost demonstrating devotion through a refusal to be silenced by fear bestowing honor with a conspicuous message that love wins ©2016janetaylor
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Sep 11, 2016
Sep 11, 2016 at 6:22 PM UTC
9/11 birthday
My dearest love, If I were to explain the music in my ears, It’d be an algorithm of lovely ardor, Fervent beats and emotional rhythms, Pursue a possibly tangible idea, Shining lights and keyboards, Coffee colored electric energy, Pulsing in amber jelly motion, A metaphorical knife is ****** into the solar plexus, Stimulating the tear sacs, Which then open and shed a bassline, Which repeats in nonexistent space, Maybe… Just maybe… It stretches into eternity.
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Oct 15, 2014
Oct 15, 2014 at 6:59 PM UTC
Isaac
It doesn't matter how hard I try I never seem to get away Cause after all you did to me I fear these feelings will always stay *Your lies I believed were the truth beneath The pain recedes but the heart bleeds My instincts were right all along I’m just a part of your love song* You see, I live my life in fear Fear I won't succeed And every small critique I get Makes me once again recede *My Iloveyous to you were inevitable Like the sun emitting his ardor Despite the moon in slumber’s nocturne He shines brightly with fervor* I live my life, always afraid That I am not on the right path And if I take one small misstep I'll have to face somebody's wrath *Time consumes me while I waste it away Like grains of sand as I clenched and ran Only to lose it Again and again* I am eternally scared That all my judgments are wrong And if I ever meet someone They'll only like me for so long *But then I met you out of the blue You were trying to forget someone too We sparked like fireworks in the night sky But the fire burnt out and our colors faded hue* I live my life in constant fear I fear that you were right I simply am not good enough And I will not be alright *Thank you for proving me right That we were not meant to be How could you love another light When I was the one your darkness pleased* But even worse than all these things Is my terror that someday I will meet someone else like you And not be able to get away. *You complete me &* You destroyed me
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Apr 3, 2015
Apr 3, 2015 at 2:38 AM UTC
Philophobia (Collab with Erenn)
were you there with a passionate heart when all her world was falling apart did you listen thoughtfully when all that was was misery did you hold her see her eyes when desperation fell from the sky did you linger help her cope when all was lost without a hope were you present conscience clear to help her face her darkest fear did you ardor deep inside laugh and cry build her pride did you lift her from her knees dull the pain and help her ease did you question more than care were you feelings raw and bare did you show her all your love deep in spirit from above
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Mar 17, 2017
Mar 17, 2017 at 12:18 AM UTC
fabric of the heart
Sailboat on a purple sea Yellow skies are all she sees Lonely Captain at the helm Lord o’er all her ocean realm. Sailboat on a purple sea Sailing through Eternity The yellow skies reveal her ardor Searching for inlet or harbor. Where she can safely drop her anchor Without hostility or rancor Stay forever, or a day If on a whim she sails away. To search again for other shores Unmindful of the ocean’s mores. Sometimes storms impede her course Fill her journey with remorse Thunder sounds a deaf’ning roar Through driving rain, can’t see the shore Lightning bolts around her flash As if to call the Captain brash For thinking that she has control Over purple ocean’s vitriol. If ever she regrets her plight When yellow skies turn dark at night And midnight storms have lead to loss She rights the ship and bears the cross And waits for morning dawn to break Sun through last night’s rain will make A rainbow reaching far away Certainly it will show the way To steer her sailboat that day. Sailboat on a purple sea Yellow skies are all she sees Buoyant Captain at the helm Lord o’er all her ocean realm. PwL 04/21/15
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Apr 22, 2015
Apr 22, 2015 at 10:56 PM UTC
Sailboat on a Purple Sea
A mere trifle, this thing that troubles the lid. Forever in fear, unable to compose Vision stoops to comprehend this failure, Pride doesn’t. A glimpse of blindness, With the ardor of helplessness. De facto, it is in the eyes of another Where you were mistaken. The red in between Defining ties of the wicked, wise In stupor and pain, in insomniac lethargy The poisoned gaze, returns quietly. Sun shades, remember Anger cheats as much as it destroys. The flaming ash of a cigarette, Another excuse for a Gimlet.
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May 4, 2014
May 4, 2014 at 6:09 PM UTC
Conjunctivitus
Oh, may I join the choir invisible Of those immortal dead who live again In minds made better by their presence; live In pulses stirred to generosity, In deeds of daring rectitude, in scorn For miserable aims that end with self, In thoughts sublime that pierce the night like stars, And with their mild persistence urge men's search To vaster issues. So to live is heaven: To make undying music in the world, Breathing a beauteous order that controls With growing sway the growing life of man. So we inherit that sweet purity For which we struggled, failed, and agonized With widening retrospect that bred despair. Rebellious flesh that would not be subdued, A vicious parent shaming still its child, Poor anxious penitence, is quick dissolved; Its discords, quenched by meeting harmonies, Die in the large and charitable air, And all our rarer, better, truer self That sobbed religiously in yearning song, That watched to ease the burden of the world, Laboriously tracing what must be, And what may yet be better, -- saw within A worthier image for the sanctuary, And shaped it forth before the multitude, Divinely human, raising worship so To higher reverence more mixed with love, -- That better self shall live till human Time Shall fold its eyelids, and the human sky Be gathered like a scroll within the tomb Unread forever. This is life to come, -- Which martyred men have made more glorious For us who strive to follow. May I reach That purest heaven, -- be to other souls The cup of strength in some great agony, Enkindle generous ardor, feed pure love, Beget the smiles that have no cruelty, Be the sweet presence of a good diffused, And in diffusion ever more intense! So shall I join the choir invisible Whose music is the gladness of the world.
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4.6k
The Choir Invisible
Oh, may I join the choir invisible Of those immortal dead who live again In minds made better by their presence; live In pulses stirred to generosity, In deeds of daring rectitude, in scorn For miserable aims that end with self, In thoughts sublime that pierce the night like stars, And with their mild persistence urge men's search To vaster issues. So to live is heaven: To make undying music in the world, Breathing a beauteous order that controls With growing sway the growing life of man. So we inherit that sweet purity For which we struggled, failed, and agonized With widening retrospect that bred despair. Rebellious flesh that would not be subdued, A vicious parent shaming still its child, Poor anxious penitence, is quick dissolved; Its discords, quenched by meeting harmonies, Die in the large and charitable air, And all our rarer, better, truer self That sobbed religiously in yearning song, That watched to ease the burden of the world, Laboriously tracing what must be, And what may yet be better, -- saw within A worthier image for the sanctuary, And shaped it forth before the multitude, Divinely human, raising worship so To higher reverence more mixed with love, -- That better self shall live till human Time Shall fold its eyelids, and the human sky Be gathered like a scroll within the tomb Unread forever. This is life to come, -- Which martyred men have made more glorious For us who strive to follow. May I reach That purest heaven, -- be to other souls The cup of strength in some great agony, Enkindle generous ardor, feed pure love, Beget the smiles that have no cruelty, Be the sweet presence of a good diffused, And in diffusion ever more intense! So shall I join the choir invisible Whose music is the gladness of the world.
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The pierced ego sees through an opaque lens; a vestige of hope, humor and   intellectual solidarity. Effigies of forgotten ethos, the culmination of a fated dream; unrequited ardor, abandons identity to an irreducible fervor,                       subtext of tension,                     enduring ****** privation; etude of a paramour ending torture, tasting mystical polarity. The wounded heart once intruded, bleeds effusive; the ornament of humility. Flattened collateral damage, primal search, proves illusive; portals of hurt, slivers of pride, assembled fragments of thereness absorb the loss of my English muse. Poetry and devotion punctuated murmurs of piety,   depth perception virtue unfound; expectation - access to suffering;   disinterested love present,   desultory carnage of rescission,    absurdity personified; euphemism of adieu, the sound of no sound. The discarded image finds no favor, the salt lost it's savor unquenched thirst; desire of diminished purview, the saporus stream deferred; vision eclipsed; saturated self hidden in the text. Poverty asks the question, absence summons ethereal substance merged into the immanent frame; integrating, in solitude signifying, mediating - logos contested the humiliation of the word. Lyrical enigma, where did I go? provisional personality scorned, renouncing nostrums of the prosaic, surrenders to the the realm interior sovereignty assumed in provenience, native horizon of the next. ©2008 & 2011 W.S. Warner
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Sep 3, 2011
Sep 3, 2011 at 6:11 PM UTC
The Humiliation of the Word
The pierced ego sees through an opaque lens; a vestige of hope, humor and   intellectual solidarity. Effigies of forgotten ethos, the culmination of a fated dream; unrequited ardor, abandons identity to an irreducible fervor,                       subtext of tension,                     enduring ****** privation; etude of a paramour ending torture, tasting mystical polarity. The wounded heart once intruded, bleeds effusive; the ornament of humility. Flattened collateral damage, primal search, proves illusive; portals of hurt, slivers of pride, assembled fragments of thereness absorb the loss of my English muse. Poetry and devotion punctuated murmurs of piety,   depth perception virtue unfound; expectation - access to suffering;   disinterested love present,   desultory carnage of rescission,    absurdity personified; euphemism of adieu, the sound of no sound. The discarded image finds no favor, the salt lost it's savor unquenched thirst; desire of diminished purview, the saporus stream deferred; vision eclipsed; saturated self hidden in the text. Poverty asks the question, absence summons ethereal substance merged into the immanent frame; integrating, in solitude signifying, mediating - logos contested the humiliation of the word. Lyrical enigma, where did I go? provisional personality scorned, renouncing nostrums of the prosaic, surrenders to the the realm interior sovereignty assumed in provenience, native horizon of the next. ©2008 & 2011 W.S. Warner
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83
Liberating the pixie wings Swirling ribbons brushing the sky Running in the ocean's breathe, you the wild horse no man could ever tame You, The gypsy wanderer trailing the night huddled in tiny cargo ships pioneering the sky - living on a tin can - in sheer ardor - to be outside from shackles below The widen gap and the cracked stary sky Your hands lodged through trying to find; The teachings of the higher powers Wisdom, philosophy's power, truth.... And you do, you stand upon a flower bed of knowledge - sharing to the world beyond
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May 13, 2016
May 13, 2016 at 6:08 PM UTC
Sagittarius
The elegance of her ardor Captures you and lures you into her clean hands But living in this cynical world, with overflowing grimace Many souls lack to understand Why her stride is full and incandescent She posses a sweet force were every murmur she whispers pushes you to listen A voice fully soft spoken It's a gentle breeze through your ears In the absence others' may make you feel In her presence, you are here. The quantum she share is as petite as her frame Longing for more, she makes it impossible to maintain Straight forward. Her ratherness for avoiding the curves and steeps that one can provide Would leave you at a daze with desire A fire inferno Burning inside of your eyes Seconds and affection she hardly gives Made her a tenacious woman in twenty-one years But the love that she gives. Oh. The love that she gives Is more sweeter than honey in a tomb of one thousand years Seeing men fall into her deep dark abyss From their own creation and temptation they couldn't resist Attempting to crawl back into reality, after losing themselves You would think she's a Black Mamba A hunter Looking for a prey to lead astray But she's only a sweet soul that God humbly perfectly made A gift that many fail to contain That makes every Man yearn and kneel to pray There is No woman like her Her ineffable felicity you will not find Her Respect, you'll give Or you will not live Unintentionally, She posses the power to take over your mind With every thought you feel Her time isn't wasted on pleasures and life's immorality She's the meaning of a blessing She fails to degrade her self down to worlds level You'll fall in love with her originality Some would go far as calling her stuck up A ***** But a deficient mind wouldn't comprehend She's a woman of God Of wisdom And your respect she demands Perfectly sane To me she's a courageous lady Some men call her dangerous But Me, I call her Shady Copy Right 2013    ©Patty Ann
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Jul 31, 2013
Jul 31, 2013 at 2:28 PM UTC
Shades of Shady
The elegance of her ardor Captures you and lures you into her clean hands But living in this cynical world, with overflowing grimace Many souls lack to understand Why her stride is full and incandescent She posses a sweet force were every murmur she whispers pushes you to listen A voice fully soft spoken It's a gentle breeze through your ears In the absence others' may make you feel In her presence, you are here. The quantum she share is as petite as her frame Longing for more, she makes it impossible to maintain Straight forward. Her ratherness for avoiding the curves and steeps that one can provide Would leave you at a daze with desire A fire inferno Burning inside of your eyes Seconds and affection she hardly gives Made her a tenacious woman in twenty-one years But the love that she gives. Oh. The love that she gives Is more sweeter than honey in a tomb of one thousand years Seeing men fall into her deep dark abyss From their own creation and temptation they couldn't resist Attempting to crawl back into reality, after losing themselves You would think she's a Black Mamba A hunter Looking for a prey to lead astray But she's only a sweet soul that God humbly perfectly made A gift that many fail to contain That makes every Man yearn and kneel to pray There is No woman like her Her ineffable felicity you will not find Her Respect, you'll give Or you will not live Unintentionally, She posses the power to take over your mind With every thought you feel Her time isn't wasted on pleasures and life's immorality She's the meaning of a blessing She fails to degrade her self down to worlds level You'll fall in love with her originality Some would go far as calling her stuck up A ***** But a deficient mind wouldn't comprehend She's a woman of God Of wisdom And your respect she demands Perfectly sane To me she's a courageous lady Some men call her dangerous But Me, I call her Shady Copy Right 2013    ©Patty Ann
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56
I tremble, I shake, I convulse, My body is racked with pain. You have the cure. Free my body, free my mind From this anguish. Bring me Back from oblivion. Give me Your Medicine. Your touch, your breath, your body, your soul, Your mind, your thoughts, your desires, your essence, Your passion, your love, your ardor, your fervor, Your fantasies, your tastes, your spirit, your laughter, Your glances, your voice, your sweetness, your will, Your warmth, your smile, your curves, your charm, Your moods, your temper, your hates, your tears, Your furrows, your frowns, your wrath, your fury. Your peace. Your serenity. Your compassion. Your surrender. Please allow me Your Medicine- You have mine. Come, let us heal the world with our cure.
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Oct 23, 2012
Oct 23, 2012 at 9:54 AM UTC
Medicine
1467 A little overflowing word That any, hearing, had inferred For Ardor or for Tears, Though Generations pass away, Traditions ripen and decay, As eloquent appears—
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3.7k
A little overflowing word
¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ perched atop a muddy graze amongst the reefing centipede does lady jade a’ponder days from whence the eldest had decreed. *"what's this a'fuss upon the breeze that sings a song of fallen trees?" **a burnin' Birgham urn, aburn! a'crack—a'whack—a'wish..*** was broadening—a shiver, swift— bespoken of her crown to rest? what way whereby these spirits lift that hide should (of the head) contest? *"what, unbeknownst, should overwhelm this silv'ry shoat, what's felling elm?" **a burnin' Birgham urn, aburn! a'crack—a'whack—a'wish..*** amidst a cruel cacophony, the lady seed, she must concede the razing of her progeny beholden to appease a need. *"what's this in want of dire good that preys upon upholding wood?"           **a burnin' Birgham urn, aburn!                     a'crack—a'whack—a'wish..*** on arbor brawn does ardor dine does earthen daughter march to meet as tireless as the vile design divesting mother's gen'rous teat. *"what subtleties uproot the heart as bodies from their souls depart?"           **a burnin' Birgham urn, aburn!                      a'crack—a'whack—a'wish..***
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Aug 27, 2015
Aug 27, 2015 at 8:19 AM UTC
Fauna's Mourning
The poet’s quill scribes a vision of the debutante as she rests amongst the bluebells Scattered like jewels over the meadow. The delicate voice of the robins Echo through the valley, Where the gentleman tells of his ardor As they shelter amongst the weeping willows. Curls tumble from the confines of her hat, Parasol tilting to hide girlish blushes, Careless of her silk skirts they are crushed, lying as broken rose petals. She glows with the joy of an un-chaperoned picnic Scent of cinnamon scrolls tempt her senses, as her beau offers cider to moisten their suddenly dry throats. Dapper in his impeccable finery, Coat tails trailing, crisply starched shirt points lifting his chin, Top hat tilted at a rakish angle. Dark eye’s glinting with the thrill of his endeavors. Sunshine silhouettes the glory of the lovers, whom the poet has sewn together as an artist creates a masterpiece. Each syllable as a brushstroke on canvas. A Monet made not of oil and brushes, But ink and parchment. Every word scribed by the care of the poet, Transformed within the mind of the reader
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Oct 21, 2009
Oct 21, 2009 at 12:59 AM UTC
Scribed masterpiece
*You speak to my soul and make my eyes smile warm as sunny days, enchanting as moonbeams your thoughtful words permeate my very being I carry your friendship as a precious locket always available to hold dear and admire safekeeping next to my heartbeat's ardor scripted designedly in golden stanzas pendant's everlasting imprinted verse* For my sweet friend, you know who you are. xo
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Dec 28, 2013
Dec 28, 2013 at 12:43 PM UTC
Enchant'd Moonbeams