"satine" poems
When Winchester races first took their beginning
It is said the good people forgot their old Saint
Not applying at all for the leave of Saint Swithin
And that William of Wykeham's approval was faint.
The races however were fixed and determined
The company came and the Weather was charming
The Lords and the Ladies were satine'd and ermined
And nobody saw any future alarming. —
But when the old Saint was informed of these doings
He made but one Spring from his Shrine to the Roof
Of the Palace which now lies so sadly in ruins
And then he addressed them all standing aloof.
'Oh! subjects rebellious! Oh Venta depraved
When once we are buried you think we are gone
But behold me immortal! By vice you're enslaved
You have sinned and must suffer, ten farther he said.
These races and revels and dissolute measures
With which you're debasing a neighboring Plain
Let them stand —You shall meet with your curse in your pleasures
Set off for your course, I'll pursue with my rain.
Ye cannot but know my command o'er July
Henceforward I'll triumph in shewing my powers
Shift your race as you will it shall never be dry
The curse upon Venta is July in showers—.
3.4k
missyouhere
My solar plexus is really feelin
you right now
Powerfully internal longing
I mean ****
Even digital communication is
helping
And you know how I feels
*I do!!
Ergo my slight surprise
earlier*
I'm missin you girl
*as I feel we've indeed kept the
whole not-getting-too-sticky-
over-text communication
you're making my heart smile*
I feel you from here :)
I'm trying to get up there
Before school starts I want to go
explore places with you
*month left!
ample time*
Start thinking of places you'd
want to check out
We could crash in the back of
my car or tent or whateva
And get mad homies to come too
But I think a lil day trip with us
soloing could be very cool
*yes
find a creek
we'll be there. only paddle
needed being yours
I just miss you on top of me,
hugging my body to yours
the feel of your shoulders*
Lightly touch your neck with fingertips
As they find their way to the
roots of your hair
And I squeeze
And a hard kiss
As I stare
Deep into your eyes
stopimissyou
I'm driving so I fear I shall stop promptly
why would you drive and talk to me -_-
Reckless lust.
Laying underneath the stars with
you in my arm
Thought fills me with warmth
*ugh
stevieray*
Satine
*imissyou
comenearme*
As soon as
Unfortunately
Feasible
And not possible
Buenos noches
Satine dulce
Sep 7, 2014
Sep 7, 2014 at 6:16 PM UTC
“The twinkle in my eye”
She says
The twinkle in my eye?
He stripped of passion.
He stripped of feeling.
Such words sang from a freshly cut melon.
Smiling up at me
Eyes glistening from fascination
Chest glistening from the essence
Of a coconut (and a small amount of saliva)
Curves of unfathomable length
Lips of explored (and unexplored) depths
Luscious locks of the moonless sky
Leave me lavished with listless languish
For just a moment
But my breath returns
My energy rebalanced
Spirit re
Invigorated
Satine
Sweet Satine
Jun 17, 2014
Jun 17, 2014 at 1:18 AM UTC
One of these days, I'll fly away,
my wings spread far and wide.
No wispy clouds above my head
will stop my gracious ascent.
The wind will sway with me and kiss
my white down affectionately,
and to the moon, my body will soar,
away from dust and soil.
Your words, those branches,
those spiny twigs,
won't reach me in the sky.
The wind will shield me
from their graze
and lift me to the stars.
Sep 16, 2013
Sep 16, 2013 at 7:27 PM UTC
A la nuit satine
la belle Orion se mire
dans l'air frissonnant
des sables constellés,
et sur les rives lactées
où coule le Nil,
je me pavane
le nez dans les étoiles,
suivant des yeux
les volutes sorcières
d'un havane suave
embaumant Misraïm.
Qu'ont-ils raconté
ces hommes, venant de Mars,
lorsqu'ils débarquèrent
de leurs vaisseaux,
fuyant leur terre moribonde ?
Et quel espoir oublié
chérissaient-ils
que garde en son ventre
le sphinx immobile ?
Mon vieux Samir
reprenons une rasade
de ce doux Rhum
couleur d'ambre
parfumé de santal
et laissons sous le sable
soupirer ce mystère
qui sommeille.
Feb 16, 2025
Feb 16, 2025 at 4:28 PM UTC
Sweet Satine
Curving through my neglected dreams
With curves that never end it seems
But time hath stole
Her skin
And soul
But time will turn
Just that I know
Jun 17, 2014
Jun 17, 2014 at 1:17 AM UTC