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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Chaste eyes trace my limbs, in the deep of woods swerving like a breeze moist on fields of grass, His Latin fire, on edge of twilight moods. Shape of curves fondled like tender morass, the call of moaning sprawls into full grind swerving like a breeze moist on fields of grass Although he’s roamed my shore , gentle and kind I still pulsate where musk scent trails. Outside, the call of moaning sprawls into full grind My fiery sighs reflect a wilder croon holding breaths captive in a mesh; a glide of movement’s tempo sing to rising moon And kindling now our chaste eyes, they abide love’s virtue wafts from wings of night; to hold breaths captive in sweet flow, a glide! Inhabiting one space where gazes meet Chaste eyes trace my limbs, in deep of woods... Love’s virtue blazes skin from curl of sheets His Latin fire, on edge of twilight moods. The simple times remembered are worthwhile. Those memories are treasured gifts to keep. We were innocent and lived without guile. --------- Inspiration from Nobel Prize poet, Pablo Neruda from Chile. Excerpts from his poem 'Ode to Naked Beauty' follows: Ode To A Naked Beauty With chaste heart, and pure eyes I celebrate you, my beauty, restraining my blood so that the line surges and follows your contour, and you bed yourself in my verse, as in woodland, or wave-spume: earth's perfume, sea's music. ---- Terzanelle Time for Joseph May Old poem Re-submitted 11/8/2017
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