See the squealing of the gentleman,
I think he's angry at the baker man.
He finds it hard to see the passionflowers,
Overshadowed by the fair devours,
Who is that hiding near the queen?
I think she'd like to reread the magazine.
She is but a perfect lady,
Admired as she sits by Prince O'Grady,.
She's not alone she brings a smile,
Jewels, rubies diamonds and lots of bags in a bile.
Fond picnic gathers for a stroll, ,
Especially one that's in the ole.
The gentleman makes it clear wants to be boyfriend
She wants to leave but he wants the bitter end.
2/19/20
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr.©
Rhyming Couplet
As the blushing embers
of loves' magma begins
to flow.
The tenderness of each
petal of rose
elicits passions
within us, that grow. . .
like gaian gardens on Mars. . .
a silhouette crimson,
of falling stars.
As dew-lit morning glories emit
the love of Sri Krsna,
a heavenly blue, made Ololiuqui.
The feelings and emotions
felt between us, nestle
like a ballad
of love,
spoken a Shakespearean soliloquy.
As lovers, tendered with
anger's delight,
the enthralls
of a genuous serenity of Bane.
Making up anew, like lovers' do. . .
with a devil's eye,
the mystical Belladonna passion
of love and lust,
felt eerily with a touch of Henbane.
Wildflowers, passionflowers,
herbs of magical. . .
epical proportions resound
as the Angels Trumpet.
The psychotropic distortions
of lucid power.
Pray thee, when within
the gardens of wicked
and evil.
Become the enlightened Lotus,
and revel. . . I am as One! . . .
The all endeavored flower.
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