The creativity of the thought process.
and encompassed there I stay
cossetted in swathes of perfumed air
and stroked by a beating heart.
Were I a mortal, full of heaving flesh,
I would raise my hands and fondle
that which pleases basal lust,
but I am just... A speck of dust;
a thought-form she conspired.
A trance brought me here this day
by her dreams I am transpired,
moulded by her thoughts of He
who'd be her fascination, but,
entirely of her lustful imagination.
My diaphanous form is not of Earthly clay so fired,
and once the thought her mind expressed
had diminished from the crescendo wave,
her hands clasp naught but air
for I am simply transitory, ephemeral.
Thus am I forced to decompress,
become much dissipated,
while she is left sole laying there
her heart and bed alone...
but her passion extirpated.
Poetry by Griffonner
Read 184 times
Written on 2022-02-12 at 15:56
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Passion Extirpated
With open arms she greets me to her breastand encompassed there I stay
cossetted in swathes of perfumed air
and stroked by a beating heart.
Were I a mortal, full of heaving flesh,
I would raise my hands and fondle
that which pleases basal lust,
but I am just... A speck of dust;
a thought-form she conspired.
A trance brought me here this day
by her dreams I am transpired,
moulded by her thoughts of He
who'd be her fascination, but,
entirely of her lustful imagination.
My diaphanous form is not of Earthly clay so fired,
and once the thought her mind expressed
had diminished from the crescendo wave,
her hands clasp naught but air
for I am simply transitory, ephemeral.
Thus am I forced to decompress,
become much dissipated,
while she is left sole laying there
her heart and bed alone...
but her passion extirpated.
Poetry by Griffonner
Read 184 times
Written on 2022-02-12 at 15:56
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
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D G Moody |
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Lawrence Beck |
