Musings on Life, Love, and Linguine-Poetry & Writing
In truth, what is love? Is it a broken soul pleading for help locked in a prison they created? Or a shadowy figure standing in darkness beckoning to you, yes, come here, to me Do you give your heart and your light?
Here in my garden, there is peace; there is a quiet stillness. I sit, with pencil and stark white paper, writing. Baring my naked soul for all who read to see. My sorrows, my hopes, my dreams, my downfalls. A butterfly flutters by, landing… Continue Reading “Quiet Nakedness”
She should forget her passions and innermost desires incinerate her wants and needs build a gasoline fired funeral pyre tie them all to the killing stake burning away her emotions as her soul forsakes who she is.
I see you, standing there with your passionate eyes feasting on my supple body a steady throbbing deep inside do you want this maiden fair?
Come frolic my love cool Spring breezes whispering hot passion stolen under bright stars canopy sway my darling, to our song.
Sweet heart o’ mine, hear my yearning plea staring into your star struck eyes give me absolute hope, set my soul free to soar high in clouded lapis sky.
Recent Comments