For surely dost thy beauty serve thee well sweet Susan, and true thou hast in hell learned as women do, from loathsome lotharios who only knoweth how to force by abuse, yet refuse to seduce by true passion rather they use the juvenile fashion,and never understand womens needs, which then causes us to proceed to find fulfillment for our lusty loins,from men whom we purloin ,who know how to pleaseth with passions aflame that bringeth us to that place ladies musn't name,and so Sis I've made a tryst,for you with one I know who'll be true , and keepeth quiet our derring-do and won't complain a look alike Anthony Bourdain I know you'll find him most divine,so please make haste to our secret place, where we never are wont to measure our pleasure and afterwards do quickly regale me, with the tale, I impatiently await, of how thoroughly this chosen mate did sate~
Wow! I'm overwhelmed at this dear Sis! I;m not familiar with your Anthony but I am assured if he s name is spoken by your voice, then the thought, in itself, is husky and passionate. I am truly inspired now and my inquisative side beckons me to this place where sweet Anthony resided. Oh how I hope he is as near as your suggestions comes. Thank you for knowing me so very well. Thank you for this.
Love,
Susan
Eileen, wow, this has quiet a turn to it...love your voice and the manner in which you give it to the reader. This is not only interesting but romantic and alluring...a nice write.
Sad how some men in their love making are wont to satisfy their own needs while neglecting that of their lover. A lilt of Shakespeare in this grand poem.
A loyal friendship between two women can accomplish this kind of true poetry, uplifting and tutelage on the subject of love. The sex urge hunts for lustful pleasure, love is in search of joy and happiness. Sex and love are so distinct, they belong to different realms, but it is tenderness that melts one lover into the other...for Susan K...hidden love is quilled sensitive of the feeling, Eileen...
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Love,
Susan
Love & Peace
Love Tinka
love and peace, Carole~
Passion, tis sure indeed say you, though Wilt thou be gone? it is not yet near day:
It was the nightingale, and not the lark,
That pierced the fearful hollow of thine,
Tempt not a desperate man,her beauty makes
This place AD a feasting presence full of light, night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day
Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain-tops.
5 star.
DWB
George
Rose
Lurve ya Eileen...
I am very impressed, Madame Tiger Lily, and please post the follow-up!
Love,
Sage
(((HUGS))) and much love, your friend in Tx., Karen Lynn. :D
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.