In prophecy, she comes to you,
dream beyond pannier’d delights,
floral fragrance, cocoa’d core,
soft and sweet, delicious bite;
warm to touch,
essential meal,
butter’d melt
to taste, reveal.
No crumbs of comfort,
hearty sight,
fulfilling pain,
harvest, excite.
Slumber’d eyes,
token taste,
supped crimson tongue,
refinement, interlaced.
Wow I realy like this one. I dont know if I could do this style poem.
Here is my page of poems . I have only written a few.
http://littleannab2.wordpress.com/my-poetry/
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You’ll be surprised what you find yourself doing on WP. Guaranteed. 🙂 x
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Oh I liked this. It brought back a memory of me my muse at a standoff. Her refusing even a crumb of comfort…pffft…
Ellespeth
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Thanks, Ellespeth. Crumbs of comfort is about right sometimes. 😉 x
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Ah, the delights of temptation…
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😉 x
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