Best Nubile Poems
Your feelings in a group of touring innocence
travel up North towards trust and sincerity
in sweet submissive care like a carefully rubbed suede.
You put day light into your entrapment
for noontide to go nonstop.
Caress from yonder, massage from under
your skirts make appetite nonchalantly mourn
your legs present so nutraceutical to manly weakness.
If your bones are licked by wild beasts
the jungle would be protected by the ghost of sweet affection.
If the rains fall through the planes of your body
vapours of lust and desires will spring out of the Earth.
Your expensive flare, expresses you as a needed nougat
sliding pleasurably though wet lips in a greasy enjoyment of noodles
with aroma and taste capping up a nouvelle cuissine.
Night is dead from your day-long engaging chemistry
making the aggression of your nubile emission
in ration to any attempted resistance an improper fraction
when the night's light strike your contrasting body
for the creation of a mobile image so dark and graceful,
nature will sit down beauty for a serious interview.
This is a slightly revised repost but which was formerly deleted.)
I climbed the high mountain,
breathed in the harsh high air,
really relished the beauty
of the valley where you lived.
And all because it was a custom
to present a perfumed edelweiss
to you whom I loved
in those days gone by.
But you would have none of it,
rejected me out of hand.
I felt dejected and frustrated
but then remembered the old legend
how a damsel princess of old
the beauty of the vale,
remained nubile unattached,
for none deserved her hand.
Thus to her death she remained single
and all the men who loved her, wept.
They buried her high upon a mountain
and covered her grave with roses red.
But as spring came upon her grave
grew lovely white flowers whose scent
embellished the mountain tops,
and everyone agreed that
the flower should be a remembrance
of their love that remained a dream.
A flower all called edelweiss,
a memorial for eternity.
Overweight Terrier:
Porky
Yorkie
Un-cool Terrier:
Dorky
Yorkie
Spaniel dog breeder:
Cocker
Stocker
Parrot who mimics a Spaniel's bark:
Cocker
Mocker
Book on how to care for Cockers:
Spaniel
Manuel
Originally from England, a well-rounded Spaniel stays in shape by playing:
Cocker
Soccer
Then showers and dresses by its:
Cocker
Locker
Dachshund headgear:
Weenie
Beenie
Grouchy Dachshund:
Meany
Weenie
Proportionally, male Dachshunds have:
Teenie
Weenies
(But size isn't everything)
Dachshund making critcal life choices:
Eenie
Weenie...
Lassie was a level-headed dog and never engaged in:
Collie
Folly
Reared in a loving environnment, she was a rather:
Jolly
Collie
Bred in the capitol city of NC, making her a:
Raleigh
Collie
To commemorate her frequent (and often rowdy) visits to N.O. a streetcar was renamed the:
Collie
Trolley
Snoopy immigrated to the States but alas, was found not to be a:
Legal
Beagle
Thus he was deported back to England but was promptly knighted by the Queen becoming a:
Regal
Beagle
Now a celebrity, he even had an entourage of nubile young female beagles named:
Snoopy's
Groupies
Eventually, he met his soul mate, married her in Westminster Abbey and it is rumored that they engaged in numerous and somewhat kinky sessions of:
Snoopy
Whoopie
A nubile young vicar named Jude
Was seen swimming, totally nude
The bishop said WOW
Just look at you now
Your assets - they need to be viewed!
Fiction write!
07-05-17
Invited him home for a drink
A toast as their glasses did clink
Robes down on the floor
Performing a chore...
How far will this story now sink.
WRITTEN BY TIM SMITH
The vicar bent over to pray
The bishop could not look away
So for his protection
Took up a collection
A robe now conceals his display
WRITTEN BY CHRIS GREEN
I think this story about being nude will sink low
I will tell on those guys, all I know
Those two men are not holy
The bishop's roly-poly
And the vicar used to be in a nude girly show
WRITTEN BY LIN LANE
The bishop was feeling romantic
The vicar thought the man pedantic
When the vicar turned around
To give the bishop a frown
The bishop gasped, "Lord, you're gigantic!"
WRITTEN DALE GREGORY COZART
Said Jude, will we both go to hell-
Said bishop, you never can tell
But please will you turn
I've got carpet burn
And my knees are beginning to swell
WRITTEN BY GARY SMITH
As the bishop continued to stare
He thought such a body's not fair
To see the nude vicar
was hard on his ticker
and soon he had to change underwear
WRITTEN BY ROGER ADAMS
Mother Teresa told me so
In the heaven we’ll dance too slow
If you want to come
Bring us some Rum
Otherwise you may stop and go
WRITTEN BY PASHANG SALEHI
btw... What would the Pontiff say?
Would there be hell to pay?
Or would the Pope
just drop the soap
and hope he'd be invited to play
WRITTEN BY LIM'RIK FLATS
When suddenly a knock at the door
they decided they'd rather ignore
in walked the pope,
joined in the group grope
next day they were all saddle sore
WRITTEN BY DANIEL TURNER
The pope thought it not at all freakly
when asking the other men meekly
that if they were game
and would do the same
they could set up appointments weekly
WRITTEN BY DALE GREGORY COZART
Jude's assets developed so well
As the bishop could obviously tell
But you might be surprised
How it grew to that size
Well, he used it to ring the church bell
WRITTEN BY RAY GRIDLEY
07-06-17
I have chosen You.
Sweet and handsome mortal, come to me…
Whisper to me your longings,
and I shall tickle your ear with my saccharine breath.
I shall take you to places
where only gods and goddesses roam.
Aware am I of how my radiant beauty entrances you...
Be thankful to the Fates that it is you I have chosen.
I have sprung forth from Ocean's foam,
but we shall churn that sea...
Flowers at my feet would pale
to the flowers that spring forth from my heart
How I know too well that my eyes mesmerize
A twinkle from the windows of my soul
and I know I have captured you.
I would gladly take off these necklaces ‘round my supple neck
if it means that your lips trail soft kisses instead…
I would happily unclasp these brooches in my hair,
and let my flowing tresses
tickle your gorgeous face and body,
as I take my turn to adorn you with my kisses.
I shall discard these golden robes made by the Kharites and the Horai
and reveal my nubile body for you to explore
with your eyes…
…with your hands
with your lips…
Let the Seasons be forgotten,
as we move to only know of Love.
I have chosen You.
Sweet and handsome mortal, Come to me…
August 5, 2010
Natural beautiful
Newfound love, roses grow
New moon silver flashes
Nubile young, blushing cheeks
Nice guy, real charmer
Nuts about your sweet kiss
Nothing can change the love
30.04.2017
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
( Pleiades form : N )
www.howmanysyllables.com
For Kim Merryman's contest
Modeled by the skilled and clumsy hands
of artists and artisans into an ideal state of she-ness,
a penniless waif appears on a stool
last week a stranger called her Mona Lisa.
Statuesque upon the betrayer
warmed by the lemon-lolly light from
bays of north facing windows, blinded;
she can but blink.
Surrounded by a
cog-notched cyclical wheel of nubile artists—
blooming buds of wildness, vertical sprigs
flail softly on the breezy bounty of
illumination.
Brush and trowel, thick and thin,
the artists stoke her—semblance
canvased by millennium brush biters
maudlin Mary is returned to the pre-historic stew
by the likes of Claude
polished to a pearly perfection
by type A, Hieronymus’.
They were all strangers to her posers,
every bit as much as she.
Royal pretenders in a world
where only the artless
are paid.
Moneylenders rise on their discarded carapaces
beauty sucked dry by the doers and shakers
who spread like choking bittersweet through
the lollypop-light from the bay windows facing north
consuming Mona.
Julie ford Oliver - Famous Models
Ekphrasis
First Appeared in Illumen Magazine Fall of 2014
warm sun beckons
nubile bodies lie on white sand shores
snowbirds
Before there was a world or a word
there was unfathomable loneliness
in the gaseous expanse of pin pricked night
an infinite course of vibrations, sound
nascent, coalescing, gestating,
until planets ripening birthed with souls.
There was only the orb, the throbbing soul
and an unknown longing for word,
conduits formed synapses gestating
to wavelengths of crystalline loneliness,
the aching white noise, static, lack of sound,
and the wanderers of celestial night.
Man was born to such a daunting midnight
aqueous eyes and conical ears for soul
to shattering din’s discordant sound,
no bird song, no harmony, no words,
just an aging, aching, aloneness,
of random thoughts thus wordless gestating.
A rhythm of circular gestation
formed the day and lingering became night
and thus weakened, warmed the loneliness
with woman kind He brought her soul.
Ether resounded with sheet lightening, words
for those sounds were to souls, the God sound.
Strong, silibant streams of understood sound
released from the oval egg of gestation
songs formed as man combined the God like words
croonings of passion fill the nubile night
as joinings rolled-tidal of mated souls.
Word all powerful had freed loneliness.
Each creature gifted an end to loneliness
earth, water, fire ,wind, all given sound,
all graced beloved with shimmering souls,
hatched from the dragon’s egg, life gestates
into the bountiful passage of night.
Cherish the ever present presence of the Word.
No longer alone, a sound vibrating within
each atom relates to the soul, gestation continues
in the night's never-ending cycle of the Word's life.
*My PASSION is SONG
* Many lines have internal RHYME as well as
the end rhyme achieved by the use of the same words.
*Dedicated to inspiration achieved
through the writings of L'Nass Shango & David Smalling
.
The flower’s image before me
stares
So overwhelmed by the splendor
my fingers become
agitated
restless
frantic
and what spills
sears mine slip
stunning sky blue decorate
the sylphs eyes
clustered blond tresses ornament
her soft Caucasian flesh
to her hips
leading this soul’s gaze to those
naked distended lips
The poet pining for this
petite nubile miss
I thought poetry is
-name of Mesopotamia which was the first civilization to emerge in human history
-ancient cave peoples surviving life struggle
I thought poetry is
-an immortal love story of Yousuf- Zulekha, Shirin-Farhad, Laila-Majnu or Romeo-Juliet
-a telephonic or open love conversation of smiling postmodern girls
-drying wet colorful clothes of beloved in the courtyard of the house
-haring of beloved with tuberose garland before a mirror
I thought poetry is
-lizards chirping from the deserted house; cockroach flying
-quarrelsome cats in the black dark or barking dogs
-the struggle of mosquito for human blood
-traveling of the arrogant indecent animals all over the night
I thought poetry is
-thrilling venturous ghostly stories of J. K. Rowling
-self-expression of known-unknown writers
-unspoken tale of a war-wounded soldier
-the regret of the thousands of dead soldiers
-the unwritten fantasy of an isolated poet
-the lonely guitar or ektara of dead singers
I thought poetry is
-without reel tie an independent flying of a kite in the sky
-in the blue sky sovereign flapping of birds
-movement of invisible winds everywhere
-hearing story of fairytale crossing of green forest
I thought poetry is
-handmade airing of newly married girl to a new groom in lunch time
-dyed hands of nubile girls by mehndi,
-captivating sounds of jingling anklet and kamarband of dancing damsels
I thought poetry is
-classic music of Pandit Ravi Shankar
-immortal tune of Ustad Bismillah Khan's shehnai
-compilation of humanitarian lyrics of the legend Bob Marley
-heart touching reciting of the Holy Quran of Qari Abdul Basit
I thought poetry is
-unforgettable philosophical discussion of Socrates with his disciples
-the philosophic lineage of learning such as Socrates-Plato-Aristotle
-immortal scientific creations of Newton, Galileo, Einstein, Nikola Tesla, Hawking
I thought poetry is
-unremitting prayer or worship of any prevailed religion devotee to get heaven
-inhuman history of bombing on the Hiroshima and Nagasaki or brutality of 1st or 2nd World War
These all are just my thinking,
my thinking is free
on my path
but poetry is poetry,
more than any thinking, many more;
on its path
Poetry is independent fully
-June 27, 2019 Chattogram
SCAR
On her right forearm she carries a scar,
Symbol of the comet and the fiery stars.
Found at the crossroads, a scar on the map,
Didn’t realize that her need was a trap.
Mindlessly she picks…she knows how to pick ’em.
When memory takes over does she ever think of him?
Remember the nights aglow with their fire
Caught up in the rapture, driven by desire.
Now she's burning bridges to keep herself warm
Taking full advantage of her nubile form
To get from men what she thinks she needs
And, despite what you’ve heard, she needs,
She bleeds from the scar that she feverishly picks…
Look long if you can she’ll be gone in a quick.
So, when she scratches her scar does she think of him?
Feel a pain in her heart or laugh with a grin?
The scar that burns in her soul like a star…
When words attack they, too, can leave a scar.
When fate decides to bring you love.. smile..
for fickle fate oft omits the finer things,
bless the ground, stay enamored, yet, awhile.
Love, ah love, it is beauty without guile
and when gifted so your hearts will take to wings.
When fate decides to bring you love.. smile...
There is no emotion more versatile
bringing happiness to squires and King's
bless the ground, stay enamored, yet, awhile.
See the faultless features which beguile
and join your woven fingers with a ring.
When fate decides to bring you love.. smile..
You found a pairing more than mercantile
to such joy may your two hearts ever cling
bless the ground, stay enamored, yet, awhile.
To Bride and Groom a toast to love nubile
and all the bliss that loving lips can bring.
When fate decides to bring you love.. smile..
bless the ground, stay enamored, yet, awhile.
"Odd Lovers"
I feel your reign o’er my warm skin
your eyes cast their burning cerebral majesty
sharp diamonds cool blue sky twinning rays
the same time dawn and dusk glistening towards me
like the rapturous Sun in debate with boiling Ocean
I am Queen’s Land, nubile and unconquered
a spent sugar cane field arrested in your glowing fire
laid out like a Sunday service gone wrong and come undone
taken up like a god’s bride eager to please and smiling
in your riotous crackling laughter, some kindness, this untamed desire
jade green ignites into crystalline
I am all the wild animals
running ruinous out into open and now seen
hear my wanton cries
uncovered in soft spun blankets of dark night
I am the Moon glowing opallious and high-pearled
rising to meet your fevered and hungry molten lava kiss
drowning in waves of some scorching small death redemption
I bite eagerly with wet lips your brief eclipse
there is the taste of bittersweet candy
slowly mulled and fermented like fine mead
honey drunk deliberate and heady
for a short story time goes slowly
there is the taste of fire in the sharing of a missed moment
merging dimensions in fragile silky gossamer webbed dreams
I bite eagerly with wet lips your brief eclipse
there is the taste of bittersweet candy
made from our odd lover’s kiss
(LadyLabyrinth / 2021)
"Moon and Moon" (Two Suns) / Bat for Lashes
https://youtu.be/hMzua0mwrVk
LYRICS/"Moon and Moon" (Two Suns) / Bat for Lashes
https://genius.com/Bat-for-lashes-moon-and-moon-lyrics
Those Slithering Serpents Of World's Hidden Abyss
Through pleasant meadows they slither and soft hiss
pushing down nubile flowers as they go
they of dark, giver of serpentine kiss,
sowers of blackest curse that hatred grows,
a malignant force, masquerading as Light
of corruptible hearts, beasts out of sight!
Lying in wait in fields of verdant grass
with long razor sharp teeth so quick to bite
seeking to inflict pain as victims pass,
secure in deceit, monsters of night,
a malignant force, masquerading as Light
of corruptible hearts, beasts out of sight!
Within deep shadows they dance, curse and play
waiting for another target to slash
full of darkness, fearful of light of day,
with blades of hate, cutting a bloody gash,
a malignant force, masquerading as Light
of corruptible hearts, beasts out of sight!
Through pleasant meadows they slither and soft hiss
pushing down nubile flowers as they go
they of dark, giver of serpentine kiss,
sowers of blackest curse that hatred grows,
a malignant force, masquerading as Light
of corruptible hearts, beasts out of sight!
Robert J. Lindley, 2-19-2020
Rhyme, ( The Dark Disciples Of World's Cancerous Decrees )
Note: A poetic summation of those people that seek to
spread misery, pain, sorrow and injure others by way
of unwarranted attacks upon unsuspecting poetic souls.
Serpents that live to injure others that they decide
to harm due to their own insecurity, hatred, and/or
ill-born and unfounded jealouses.
May God forgive, (because for now) I am fresh out of that tender fruit
myself.
( Que Dios perdone, ya que estoy recién salido de ese
tierno fruto yo mismo. )