You are close by me, My Forever.
How deep and wide will be the ocean of Slumber, And how recent was the dawn!
---Kahlil Gabran
In the twilight of the morning
As love's passion wakens up
I feel dizzy with a glow just then
Rosed anticapation
Subtle sips form a loving cup
Then there comes another
Leading passions on
Nerves grasp rays of morning
Moaning's stretch, forever strong
Urging every nuance
Take it slow and make it whine
Stroke the very essence
This slick retreat, all mine
Marry every ounce of flesh
Leave no nerve unturned
Grow within my treasures
Stoke these passions, make them burn
Open all my energies
Breathe each breath on fire
Move into me gently
Burst my urgent spires
Make the morning whisper
In a silent hum
Slip into my morning
Until I come ... undone.
I love to do and read all sorts of writing, and I am a true lover of writers who know the joy of fearless freedom. The novel, A Tale About Lilly, was the other side of my demure self, showed one aspect of real and, sometimes real is just clearly raw and simultaneously sexual; see readers are probably squinting now and saying, “Oh my gosh, she said the word.” Well, if one wants to go there, then I am happy that others are not afraid to be sensuous. It is a fabulous part of life. Beautiful.
Damn! - I love old modern poetry! The modern poet writes what old poets wrote... the pressure of being human with all kinds of desires and stuff, whether one was in love or not. This is great, with stimuli sticking out all over the place. Way to go, Susan!
Reviewed by Jerry Bolton (Reader)
Reviewed on September 8, 2007
Yeah, old Kahlil's name is being slung through the mud up there in NewYorkShitty these days . . . You haven't posted much lately, but I can see that your expertise is still alive and well . . . Simmering poetry . . .
Kim Jong Eun è morto. L'esercito nordcoreano è ora al comando. Il loro nuovo dittatore militare, il maresciallo Ko, crede che con un'invasione totale possano raggiungere Seul, a sole 35 miglia di distanza.
This was no mere illusion. Colin Chase Rand, pulled through a magical portal, landed in 1935 where the dust bowl and the Great Depression was destroying lives, and a serial killer was in their midst
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Art Sun...
love Tinka
Kahlil ain't got nothin on you.
Walt
stan
Edwin
hugs
Fee
The 'dawning' of love, so desirable.
Kathy
Regis
John
Salome *.*
Blessings ...
Richard
Ron
Dan
(((HUGS))) and much love, your friend in Tx., Karen Lynn. :)
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.
Damn! - I love old modern poetry! The modern poet writes what old poets wrote... the pressure of being human with all kinds of desires and stuff, whether one was in love or not. This is great, with stimuli sticking out all over the place. Way to go, Susan!