Full Bodied Forth
or
Such Stuff As John-a-dreams Is Made On
"Reason sole sobers up booze artists."
-- a poet of penetration
* * *
Upon the tide of midnight 'neath the moon,
Amidst a sea of sherris sack and wine,
My quill and I on sinking in a swoon,
Bobbed up before a sonnet too divine!
Bewitchery ne'er possessed such frame and form!
Or coy, come-hither looks such figures true!
No pick-up lines should speak in tones so warm!
No sultry iambs sonneteers so woo!
Enthrallèd by a steaminess ideal,
All shades throughout the chamber being drawn,
We paused not once to ask if "It" be real,
But dropped a threesome into timeless dawn!
Till on the morrow round our languor lay
An ink-stained parchment smeared in sweet foreplay.
* * *
a dedication of Respect
for
the Pain of the morning after
a revolving helios sonnet shakespearean satire menippean on
the large majority of "poetry"
still in its cups
april, 2023 -- the romantic yet
full lit
with his cups running over
Copyright © James Starkey Iii | Year Posted 2023
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