02-05-2016, 11:58 PM
(This post was last modified: 02-06-2016, 12:05 AM by IvanXLIV.
Edit Reason: typos
)
Hello all,
Yesterday night I had the most intimate and soulful conversation; a precious and timeless moment shared with a close and trusted friend. It left me delightfully restless, and in the end I've come up with this little piece of poetry, which I hope you'll enjoy...
A Painted Lady
‘Twas morning, when dewdrops dot the verdant hollow,
Wandering idly by the murmuring water
Of the meandering brook; I espied yonder
Fluttering colors beckoning me to follow.
Approaching, I beheld a sight most heavenly:
There she stood, radiant, graceful and dignified,
Dainty butterfly of ochre and saffron dyed
Reclining on a purple-clad morning glory…
A painted lady, by any other name.
Marmorean flesh, locks of silken ebony
Softly she spoke unto me whilst I stood, smitten
By her honeyed wit and tasteful prose. Unbidden,
Yearnings most delightful and keen swelled within me.
Thou cameth forth, pastel muse of fiery creation,
No easel nor canvas may frame thy spirits now;
Kindred soul, modern Galatea, source of awe,
Free-willed masterpiece of divine inspiration…
A painted lady, by any other name.
Dear lady (you know who you are), it came from the heart... You are one of a kind.
, Ivan
Yesterday night I had the most intimate and soulful conversation; a precious and timeless moment shared with a close and trusted friend. It left me delightfully restless, and in the end I've come up with this little piece of poetry, which I hope you'll enjoy...
A Painted Lady
‘Twas morning, when dewdrops dot the verdant hollow,
Wandering idly by the murmuring water
Of the meandering brook; I espied yonder
Fluttering colors beckoning me to follow.
Approaching, I beheld a sight most heavenly:
There she stood, radiant, graceful and dignified,
Dainty butterfly of ochre and saffron dyed
Reclining on a purple-clad morning glory…
A painted lady, by any other name.
Marmorean flesh, locks of silken ebony
Softly she spoke unto me whilst I stood, smitten
By her honeyed wit and tasteful prose. Unbidden,
Yearnings most delightful and keen swelled within me.
Thou cameth forth, pastel muse of fiery creation,
No easel nor canvas may frame thy spirits now;
Kindred soul, modern Galatea, source of awe,
Free-willed masterpiece of divine inspiration…
A painted lady, by any other name.
Dear lady (you know who you are), it came from the heart... You are one of a kind.
, Ivan
"Let my worship be within the heart that rejoiceth, for behold: all acts of love and pleasure are my rituals."
- The Goddess -
- The Goddess -
![[Image: xpXEtwW.gif?noredirect]](https://i.imgur.com/xpXEtwW.gif?noredirect)
i'm a little bit surprised by the popularity of this impromptu composition, however. 
)