Erotic pictures and poetry

I would wholeheartedly recommend this book to anyone. It was so much beautiful and it reached deep into my soul, my memories and my ghosts, the bad and the good ones. Beautiful, wide-spread, fire upon leaf, what meadow yields so fragrant a leaf as your bright leaf? Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets. There is every shade of love and purity: And fingering the smooth and polished kernel I should see that in my hands glittered a gem beyond counting. I enjoyed every word, every feeling.

Submit or edit your profile: The Lovely Lady Eleanor A poem about a high-born lady who has a host of endearing and sometimes contradictory characteristics. Famous Poems Poetry Greeting Cards. Sometimes just the thought of someone can stir up emotions in us when we least expect it.

One of the most amazing and artistic things I ever saw on Pbase, bravissimo and voted! The ocean, the scientists say, is the fountainhead of Life. An commuter follows a plainly dressed and androgynous girl on his walk to work, but a glimpse of her face convinces him he needs to get to know her better. Poem Published Today 2: Anatolian goddess leggi poesia.

I would wholeheartedly recommend this book to anyone. That hard nugget of pain, I would suck it, cradling it on my tongue like the slick seed of pomegranate. There are love poems for every mood and sentimental feeling, for every phase of love you are experiencing whether you are with a partner or not. At the touch of you, As if you were an archer with your swift hand at the bow, The arrows of delight shot through my body. Your traveled, generous thighs between which my whole face has come and come— the innocence and wisdom of the place my tongue has found there— the live, insatiate dance of your nipples in my mouth— your touch on me, firm, protective, searching me out, your strong tongue and slender fingers reaching where I had been waiting years for you in my rose-wet cave—whatever happens, this is. Cheek pressed to cheek, the cool, the hot night-breeze Mingled our hair, our breath, and came and went, As sporting with our passion. If only he could touch her, Her name like an old wish In the stopped weather of salt On a snail.