More poems.

There is a perfect poem,a sonnet woven with metres of such mellifluousness that euphonious words arrange themselves according to some platonic ordering principle of beauty. I will find this formula and I will be the conduit through which ineffable loveliness flows:from heart to heart,one blood sings a shared life.

Ok last poem follows about making love: shakespeare called it the beast with two backs,some think of it as a stalk in a crack,others slither in sweat and repose in the wet, for us it is 69 varieties of the tete a tete head. .

Love, love, love!

Xoxo
Misiz

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone