Still she stirs many restless hearts.
Hot passionate desires burn out,
seeking her out.
She whispers to many a sensual course.
Few are lucky enough to see her voluptuous shores,
and her carnal beaches shall have you on all fours.
Her winds smell fresher than the finest wines.
The fruits on her trees get poets drunk with desires.
A quick glimpse is all it requires.
The enchanted castle in which she dwells,
causes painters to pick up their brushes.
And their easels swell.
But to reach such a place is beyond not only words,
but boats as well,
Sailors have been lost at sea trying to plot a course.
So dream on.
All you souls around.
Your sleep shall become discombobulated.
What does that even mean?
So stop with your dreams ,
Stop trying to find a -way
A- way,
to the erotic place called,
(Temptation Island).
But don’t you worry and fret my friends,
searching out.
On all kinds of your laughable boats.
At least you’ll have her aphrodisiacal images,
TO KEEP!!!
Your fully ripe bananas,
and peaches,
AFLOAT!
© 2011
I love your art & I adore this poem Steve! Thanks so much! Lisa 🙂
Exxxxceeeeeelent
Thanks darling!!
Sent on the Now Network from my Sprint® BlackBerry