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"casked" poems
Inspired by a vintage ****** postcard from the 1920s - 30s: The Muse sits resplendent caressed in sepia tones and pastel cream gilded with the glaze of a bygone era her silk Charleston negligee worn proud like a vintage ornament perched on an aesthetically pleasing shapely pert insolent ***** blossomed with tiny beads of sweat the heat of such anticipation entices the pearls of the ****** to pamper and pleasure their perversions etched as if in a radiance of candlelight the flickering limbs pulse their bloom nimble fingers of dancing shadows cupping the feline curves of a chaise longue the purposefully out of place set piece the fantasy of a gentleman's reading room caked in casked sherry and Nat Sherman cigar infused aromas her elegant pose sumptuous reclining elbow length satin gloves sensually wrapped in wanton desire two fingers clasp a Sorbranie Black Russian smoked like a sultry gypsy with a fervent demeanour from a silver opera cigarette holder beckoning with the cats eyes of mischief over Pinced nez eyeglasses with a fascination imbibed in the praxis of passion the peach skin of refulgent youth directs the viewer downwards, slowly survey each contour of olive skin and stroke every hidden cleft of fabric to glimpse the nubile thighs of grace leading the eye to the arch of an ankle slipped like a fitted glove nestled in the cleavage of her calf and the chastity of future wonderment the forgotten photograph captures a period in time the memories of the muse now in motionless existence a demure allure forever frozen once lost, but now never forgotten
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Dec 1, 2012
Dec 1, 2012 at 2:40 AM UTC
Decadence of a Muse
Inspired by a vintage ****** postcard from the 1920s - 30s: The Muse sits resplendent caressed in sepia tones and pastel cream gilded with the glaze of a bygone era her silk Charleston negligee worn proud like a vintage ornament perched on an aesthetically pleasing shapely pert insolent ***** blossomed with tiny beads of sweat the heat of such anticipation entices the pearls of the ****** to pamper and pleasure their perversions etched as if in a radiance of candlelight the flickering limbs pulse their bloom nimble fingers of dancing shadows cupping the feline curves of a chaise longue the purposefully out of place set piece the fantasy of a gentleman's reading room caked in casked sherry and Nat Sherman cigar infused aromas her elegant pose sumptuous reclining elbow length satin gloves sensually wrapped in wanton desire two fingers clasp a Sorbranie Black Russian smoked like a sultry gypsy with a fervent demeanour from a silver opera cigarette holder beckoning with the cats eyes of mischief over Pinced nez eyeglasses with a fascination imbibed in the praxis of passion the peach skin of refulgent youth directs the viewer downwards, slowly survey each contour of olive skin and stroke every hidden cleft of fabric to glimpse the nubile thighs of grace leading the eye to the arch of an ankle slipped like a fitted glove nestled in the cleavage of her calf and the chastity of future wonderment the forgotten photograph captures a period in time the memories of the muse now in motionless existence a demure allure forever frozen once lost, but now never forgotten
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Taunting eyes many lies scars upon my face memories i cant erase evil thoughts behind my mask there my circle has been casked im sure im not the only one who wants my past to be undone liars everywhere i turn let the haters burn you had your chance to be my friend But I know now that it was all - pretend
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Oct 8, 2012
Oct 8, 2012 at 3:55 PM UTC
Behind the Mask
Time sits slouched, Whisky supped from a shoe. Space takes his place, Beard smothered in brew. Hope sprawls eternal, Smiles, on the face of the few. The night is masked, Casked honey dew. Amber obscures, Procures, Distorts the view. Glazed by a hazy Feint green plume. Time takes a sip from Weathered worn out shoe. As space wipes his face Hope yawns on que. The night is released, At least for now, until The fall of the morning dew.
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Oct 12, 2016
Oct 12, 2016 at 7:44 PM UTC
Amber
*My treasure awaits, Has pearls to uncover, Locked in lips of flesh, Rose petals, blushing full Cheek, eyes of lacing nebula Exploding in milk of heavens, This treasure I must hoard, Climb on to the proud chest And unlock, spun gold threads, Sparkles in tresses of crown, Sovereign pink hands, tendered, Are freckled in beads of amber, A brooch of navel, whirlpools, Commands my ***** greed Toward singular jewel of her Thighs, lanyard of legging, Of toes, whispering ripples Till the under tides ripped Agast in so much bounty, Casked in reams of satin And flows of wet breaths Was nary sunk, drunken, Moony in starry love ring, Now, by map of dream I bury my treasure.*
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May 18, 2015
May 18, 2015 at 1:35 AM UTC
My Treasure
. My treasure awaits, Has pearls to uncover, Locked in lips of flesh, Rose petals, blushing full Cheek, eyes of lacing nebula Exploding in milk of heavens, This treasure I must hoard, Climb on to the proud chest And unlock, spun gold threads, Sparkles in tresses of crown, Sovereign pink hands, tendered, Are freckled in beads of amber, A brooch of navel, whirlpools, Commands my ***** greed Toward singular jewel of her Thighs, lanyard of legging, Of toes, whispering ripples Till the under tides ripped Agast in so much bounty, Casked in reams of satin And flows of wet breaths Was nary sunk, drunken, Moony in starry love ring, Now, by map of dream I bury my treasure.
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Dec 1, 2015
Dec 1, 2015 at 2:51 PM UTC
My Treasure
. My treasure awaits, Has pearls to uncover, Locked in lips of flesh, Rose petals, blushing full Cheek, eyes of lacing nebula Exploding in milk of heavens, This treasure I must hoard, Climb on to the proud chest And unlock, spun gold threads, Sparkles in tresses of crown, Sovereign pink hands, tendered, Are freckled in beads of amber, A brooch of navel, whirlpools, Commands my ***** greed Toward singular jewel of her Thighs, lanyard of legging, Of toes, whispering ripples Till the under tides ripped Agast in so much bounty, Casked in reams of satin And flows of wet breaths Was nary sunk, drunken, Moony in starry love ring, Now, by map of dream I bury my treasure. .
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Feb 24, 2018
Feb 24, 2018 at 1:51 PM UTC
My Treasure
My love was casked and aged in heart It was soft and hard and sometimes nought It drew breath away from sunset eyes It left me in the gladness of goodbyes I can only accept the memories bliss Of sweet and sour honnied kiss And all the last second of your sigh Written across the tears of eye And I become a vapourous ghost Of time lost to pillar post Tis now time to uncork the cask And take off my weary mask And savour love I make a toast to love's hollow boast
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Nov 10, 2014
Nov 10, 2014 at 8:50 PM UTC
Love in Cask