After the sunset
I lie quietly beside you
feeling the warmth
of your body against my own,
mine beginning where yours ends,
masculinity to your soft contours.
After the sunset
I listen to the quiet contentedness
of your breathing; each breath
exhaled from slightly parted lips
upon which a few minutes before
endless passion radiated.
After the sunset
the fragrance of our love
lingers lightly in the air.
My body still tingles from the
hours that we shared
caught up in the magic of desire.
After the sunset
as peaceful fulfillment woos me
and I begin to drift away,
smiling, I move even closer to you
with the knowledge that
sunset will come again another day.
Upon the tide-line’s shifting stage,
With one grand claw held high and wide,
He struts as if to turn the page,
A fiddler bold, consumed by pride.
He taps a rhythm on the shells,
A percussive, clicking, frantic beat,
While whispering of secret wells
Beneath the sand beneath her feet.
She skitters past, a restless sprite,
A speck of shadow on the shore,
Too quick to yield to such a sight—
He only dances all the more.
The moon-drawn waves begin to creep,
The salt-mist veils the final light;
He vows his lonely watch to keep
And fiddles to the coming night.
Does your lover woo you
like a puffer fish woos
his perfect mate?
If not … well
there are plenty more
fish in the sea!
Note: How it works
Male pufferfish build sand sculptures to attract mates.
The female pufferfish decides if the male's sculpture is good enough.
The male pufferfish uses shells to decorate the ridges of the sculpture.
The ridges stabilize the sculpture and slow water that might disturb the center where the female will lay her eggs.
The female pufferfish enters the nest and joins the male cheek to cheek.
The female lays her eggs and the male fertilizes them.
~Nature on PBS
A death I have carried since youth—
not the grave’s hush,
but the slow unfastening
of all that was false in me.
Each dawn, a small surrender:
the tongue bridled,
the anger banked,
the shadowed thought laid bare
before the Father of Lights.
I have walked with this inward dying
as one walks beside a stern companion,
learning its counsel—
that faith without its burial
is faith without breath.
For the world woos with crowns
that fade like grass in scorching wind,
but the soul grows only
where it lets go.
So I have lived with death
as with a discipline—
its quiet blade
paring away the double mind,
till what remains can stand upright
and call itself whole.
If this, then, was my long death,
blessed be the One
who taught me to lose myself,
that I might finally live.
sophistry blends with artistry
woos the languid lover
afterward, ‘pon reentry
devilish charms uncovered
Lyricism of wisteria ruses…peacocking muses gushing tomes
Classicism flocking..roams & woos homes not garden gnomes
Colourful creepers cruising..schmoozing with boisterously blushing bricks
Spring exudes mysticism..oozes oodles of bamboozling serendipity flushing
Cherished fingers rushing freely..delivers..unctuous ravishingly rambunctious
Relished slivers lavishly lingers..embellished..proudly protrudes
Inspires rhyming platitudes about gratitude...fires fresh
Attitudes across a range of altitudes & latitudes
Sprinkling wryly of vintner's drily sparkle...ends strange debacle...
Skint stints of wily skinflint winter’s splinters..with hints of now..Spring sprints
But also somehow.. if one squints..get an inkling of change..
Glints of summer's tints slyly twinkling
Earth woos Venus but she is resistant,
reflecting light of sol in the night sky,
mirrored by her lover who’s persistent,
that tango dancing, tremulous hearts sigh.
The girl next door is the beauteous moon,
who planet earth does date from time to time
for when in full bloom, she makes his heart swoon
but Venus alone awakens love’s chime.
Playing spoilsport, Mars spits venom and fire,
whilst jilted Saturn casts a dark shadow,
since for hand of Venus, they both aspire,
though it’s fated neither can be her beau.
Love letters carried on a comet’s tail,
declare those who’re pure of heart will not fail.
having a bee in
one’s bonnet ~ is to be wrapped
up in obsessed with
the honey trap ~ is
an attractive or handsome
looks woos your fondness
the bee's knee's ~ is
something new like an iPhone
or your shoes hair style
the birds and the bees
~ birds do it bees do it and
smart-as-heck fleas SEX (Cole Porter's is:
educated/smart-as-heck
used to fit in the point--
SEX)
what's meant float like a
butterfly sting like a bee
~ life perseverance
When twilight woos me to that enchanted hour
when my eyes grow weary and heavy with sleep
I’ll dream of You, Lord, and a thousand tomorrows
for only in You will my restless soul keep.
In heaven above, I’ll touch grand, pearly gates
I’ll walk hand in Hand upon gold gilded streets
I’ll see pure, sparkling waters at the River of life
flowing forth from the great white throne at Your feet.
I’ll meet every saint in their heavenly state
their glad eyes glowing with kindness and care
and a countenance of love, with all burdens lifted
up high in that haven of heaven, so fair.
But most of all, I’ll see Your face, Lord
for none other can compare, on earth or above
then I’ll fall on Your feet, with unending worship
‘til You gather me into Your arms of Love.
I fell in love with a Drunken Poet
When with light My Grail He fills
Lyrical Creativity intercourse with pen and paper spill
With Rhymes and reasons salutations
Filled so full, Colorful My imagination
Drunken poetry obliteration
He drinks sooo much, his touch Intoxicating
Slurry words with breath of sweet Rum
Penetrating and Pouring light until I succumb
He woos with words and stirs Me up
I have gotten addicted to his Liqueur syrup
Transporting my mind to Celestial Bliss
Overflowing with every Drunken Kiss
Drunk in Love, my heart Enshrined
Top shelf Libation pours, He wants me to Shine
He slurred" let go baby, I'm yours, You're mine"
I got sooo drunk, couldn't hold My liquor
Fondled My Pen, vomit on paper
He slurred, " Go on baby, it's best for your liver"
Now my speech is liquored sweet ingredients to my potion
Drunken poetry creative recreation.
Shout out to Elliott Bowe>>>creator of drunken poetry.
City hub on wings
apogee of ultra bright
fire within urban comet
tangerine signpost
to future halcyon spot
amidst buoyant step onrush
Bouncy castle perk
spurs avid market stall pitch
bargain in a jiffy bag
loophole hatched off-curb
brainwave surge from genie flash
to everyone’s benefit
Silver winter tinged
trees and wet overcast skies
never dampen township verve
that heartland zeitgeist
typical of boom and bloom
day or night march on dweller
Sweep off feet vision
endemic to rapid shifts
where marvel woos miracle
in heady cocktail
at the cutting-edge hubbub
point of entry upbeat frame
we ask for his word
although he is wayward
it matters not to us
if his actions are untoward
the play is enacted
in as is ordained
love woos love
till love is ingrained
Moments before lower mind drifts into sleep,
awareness self-aware, in the vast bardo,
sans identity, as pristine soul presence,
woos the universe to infuse magnetism
within our childlike heart, yearning for God’s touch.
embrace of space
caress of silence
woos us to awake
from deep trance
that we sing a verse
inspired by the universe
to do so requires
that ego identity shorn
we become twice born
becoming the flow of life
mindfully inking with joy
the screen of awareness
which we are
The Love of God which woos my soul
An upwards gaze, eternal goal
His love breaks forth at break of day
The light of love on life's pathway
He woos my soul and fills my heart
His Song of Love will not depart
Abba, Father, Your Loving Hands
Lifting to life from dying lands
You are the Lord Who woos my soul,
You are my Hope's eternal goal
It was You Lord, all along
In perfect Love and sweetest song
Darkest nights will pass away
Your mercies renewed every day
Your Love dear Jesus, woos my soul
Your love, my King, my upwards goal
Oh, ever be my upwards gaze,
Your precious love, amazing grace
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