And with the patience of the Sculptor of Milò,
there ventured Eros into Venus bearing seed.
In the Heavens all ye Gods had looked away,
toward Mars whose Rhea Sylvie pulled it home.
This communion in the breeze of Inos Bay
created Romulus and Remus. And then Rome.
Note:
Ida is the mountain where the first copulation of note
took place.
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A town in England, name of York,
It’s also where the silly rumour(preposterous, devoid of humour) ,of Santa and his sleigh was bornAnd then, of course, the unicorn.But I digress, back to the story,just listen and you shan’t be sorry.One morning, it was late December,when in the home of noble memberSir Dangleballs of Hollyshirewas burning brightly a big fire.Mylord was drinking Spanish…
And like a tiny seed
it grew.The rains were late,and scarce that year,yet there was beautyas a dozen tiny leaves,dark green and curledreached up to see the skyand heavy scents of roseand Lilly of the valleyform sheets of dewcondensing timeas petals spread their thighsto welcome Spring,its sap of lifewhich folds its wingsupon itselfto dwell inside,where love resides.It is so easy…
I am so far from you today,
in what they give you, for supportthe coffers of the bureaucratsand stay at home, with me?I felt a sadness on this day,St. Valentine’s has passedand there was no one you would namenor I, the world can have the brashand all the strapping boysthe dames with ponytailsand even sweet ones and their toys.I asked my Gods…
Safe upon the solid rock
fences, guards and triple lockcops called by remote.Come and see my little shackjust above high tide,sun-dried herring on a rackthis is where I hide.Have no riches and no goldfishing is my life,growing wrinkly, getting old,all without a wife.All the women like the rockand the fancy cars,ten-deck yacht down at the dock,overflowing bars.Let me clean this…
Attraction is
beckoningofsenses,on lower floorsof mantrabreath,where fallsand whitecapsmeetto mingleonwetand wondroustipsand hoodsof velvetwith a touch of silk.There may bemilk,to nurtureand to soothesonora valley,berry cavetwin peaksamantlekeeping warmthrejecting vibesandxeno scribesso softand smooth.Praisedoftby Dukes,green riverstasty cukes,sliced thinand comewithin.
We wake to yet another day of silly lessons,
wallow instead in happy effervescenceand hope he has a chance to stand up tall.A man’s appendage is, in fact, his only essence,he grooms and frets to see it ready to engage,but after climbing many mountains and small crescentshe must be cognizant of something we call middle age.And here, it’s love that generates a luminescence,it floods…