|
By (user no longer on site) OP
over a year ago
|
This is a poem long promised to a dear friend, although poem may stretch even my fantasies. ... bear with me, flame or judge me as thou wish, however a promise is a promise after all. .
In deepest Devon thou art found, betwixt fields of green with peace, no sound; save the moans and cries of joys and lust, the turn of smile, the heaving bust.
Bless my friend, sapphire of the wood, a dancing laugh, a glance that would, with a trick of the light lay good men down, and turn those maudlin frowns around.
A kink in mind, thought and play, a box of toys for rainy day. Never shy of batteries, my lady nightingale aims to please.
Winning smile and such a glorious breast, globes of pleasure that rise from chest. Delight we take in truths we've told, honesty, trust, no principles sold.
So swing sweet nightingale, sing like the bird, and if you will, take delight in my word. A poem I promised for all to read, a poem promised. A completed deed
Pray let your long tress flow loose and free, and delight in your swingers liberty. An honour to know, fondle and play. Thank you my sweet for our glorious Sunday.
((Now I have written this, can I please, please have the key to the handcuffs, I have work in the morning!))
|