The Birth of Love: A Ballad of Strength and Beauty (Act I)

The darkness of medieval vile,
Encompasses my thoughts of mind.
My happiness is far by mile,
I pray not morning comes in kind.

I’ve been a prisoner of Tower,
It chained my soul, ensnared my heart.
Are there those who have the power,
To set me free and never part?

I must confess of thoughts of leaving,
It left my mind a wondrous mess.
Oh dear lord, what am I hearing,
Is that a foretaste of egress?

The intricate and murky maze,
Surrounds the castle night and day.
I prey my knight will doff his haze,
And let his passion lead the way.

The demons rose in all their might,
With one concern, to kill the knight.
Their shadows darker than the night,
These spirits are a dreadful sight.

Despite the underworld march,
The noble hero tows no barge.
He rallies as his horse makes arch,
The sward is drawn, time to charge.

A Gift of Devine

Magnificent curves block out the Sun,

As voluptuous figure unleashes.
Her effortless nudity as she gets undone,
Can make one perform prematurely.

Caressing her flower as she makes much noise,
Like a panther she cringes and claws him.
Immuned by adrenalin he does best to hold on,
Selfishly stroking his manhood.

A switch in position is made in a flash,
Reminiscent of crossed phone conversation.
To pleasure each other like that needs no plush,
They are ready for ultimate action.

Their tingling bodies are rearranged,
The approach is begun, there is no stopping.
A rigidly tight sensation is sensed,
As he pushes inside of her ravishing body.

Lovers rowdily scream and they loudly moan,
They twist and they turn their bodies, oh its on.
He gets a bit tired; time to mount on,
She rolls onto him quickly to begin Rodeo.

Like pinpointed rockets, staring into his eye,
Her incredible breasts making circles is truly divine.
Embracing the feminine body with pride,
The speed is increased by a push from the rear.

The end is approaching they can feel it inside,
Still time for more, she gives up all her rights,
As she turns around, he comes from behind.
This time he owns it, time to reach for new heights.

The pinnacle is reached and both fall on their backs,
He is catching a breather as she marvels his stock.
Something clicked and she squeezed her phenomenal legs,
The show is not over, she want him to comeback.

Another Good Idea

The Saga of the Belly Bums is over.
To no surprise, it crashed and burned.
One year passed and now it’s done with.
No possibility of being digitally traced.

No thought, no hope, no help from muses.
I made this ugly duckling on my own.
Who could have known it would be non-amusing.
The inspiration was unbelievably strong.

As failure closes yet one more idea,
I make but only single wish.
To never having need of dreaming,
Except at night when I am in bed.