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Not the Last in an Ongoing Series of Random 17 Syllables


if all I offered

was spilled ink of intentions

would my dote suffice

~

syllabically I’ll

caress every sentiment

to culmination

~

no calculations

tally the sublime facets

to sway your desire

~

and to what degree

will eternity fall short

of dream’s duration?

~

reveal that which slakes

unselfishly satisfy

my need to please you

~

your lunar lure of

undulating tides draws me

nocturnally quenched

~

depth of affection

fathomed immeasurable

gestures left wanting

~

drifting on currents

let your passions waft lofty

settling in place

~

strumming by measure

your physical vibrato

milks essence sublime

~

secrets dissipate

fading on moonlit ripples

born of complete trust

~

blindly distracted

to the fact that a finger

was already claimed.

~

even the seasons

succumb to the gentle kiss

of the changing tides

~

pastels pass to black

palette renewed with passion

of love’s eulogy

~

lore lingers on of

gods otherwise forgotten

looking down they laugh

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One response to “Not the Last in an Ongoing Series of Random 17 Syllables

  1. Check this out, you did it again, you’re a terrific writer!

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