I lie among tasseled brocade and enhale the passion love has made
I feel your form break through the air and suddenly...you're standing there
I sense your shadow then grab my brush...I draw a line of love for us
The form with sabled bristled flow is tribute to the love that grows
The next smooth stroke is your eyes, they seem half closed, my passion flies
Just then a flow of fuller lips...they bend to collect your kissing sips
Bristled golden moonlit night...shines upon this passion bright
Added blues to softer shades, deep within where pleasures' made
Hidden down with treasures deep awaiting plunges...fluids creep
Deep within the sweep of red...nerves launch flesh to breath instead
Keep the rhythm hearts partaking...color hunger as it wakens
Oranges and magentas flowing into fruity peaches glowing
Flesh tones fading then turn rosy, flash of mountain laurel poseys
Dandelion, yellowed hair...titanium porcelain skin so rare
Kissing dots upon each ripple hardened berries of crimson nipples
Billowed melons flesh so sweet tender juices of a lover's feast
Legs of salmon colored skin opening where this love begins
Freckled, seinna spots...laced about with passion, hot
The absolute and firm request from eager urges...better...best
Legs entwined once they merge licking smells and arching curves
Licking flames that beg "Come Near!" gently passion's speaks, "I'm Here!
Opened vees that hug your line splashed on juices...from bold to fine
Sketched with colors of their fashion, glowing canvas of sabled passion.
"When you wrote "LOVE'S OWN CANVAS" Aphrodite probably ordered a feast to pay homage to you, for you brought the OLYMPUS down to Earth.
Your pen paints when your brushes write, your style sculpts when you poemize wonders and your quills poetize words.
My gratitude, respect and admiration.
Andre Emamnuel Bendavi ben-YEHU
A search for the ghost of a chorus girl chorine haunting a costume designer’s Manhattan apartment leads to an encounter with an eccentric, mischievous witch with the ability to send folks back through time…in this case, the 1919 Ziegfeld Follies.
Book 2 of the romance trilogy Horses of Tir Na Nog
Life for CJ, and Shawn, has taken on new meaning and a wonderful turn. Never in a million years did CJ think she could be this happy. With her new husband and closest friends in tow, she’s bound
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Your pen paints when your brushes write, your style sculpts when you poemize wonders and your quills poetize words.
My gratitude, respect and admiration.
Andre Emamnuel Bendavi ben-YEHU
Jack
visuals and imagery is
so excellent and sensual
alive in this
wonderful piece.
Peggy
Blue eyed fish...