Having fun with homonyms

Is it aloud? Eye asked.
It aught to bee. Ewe are my bell,
my suite.
And eye, your bow.
Will I need to cokes you?
You know that you are the colonel of my desire.
And I wish to bee the night of your dreams.

Butt, bear? Deer. No close?
Eye will say eye only if ewe seed to being scene first.
Was her reply.

In turn eye said,
Eye will peal to my waste
as you weight your thyme
to bear your braw
and then the peeks your braw encloses.
They are a site I long to sea.

Now please dew knot be ruff with the pear ewe sea,
said she.

Replied eye,
Eye will need with care
and then bear the font of my seamen.
As ewe watch it raze,
As it becomes groan,
Will ewe unvale the veil of your sects?
Will ewe make shear my view of your wring of pleasure?

There was nothing chili in her response,
Said she,
Eye will.
So we to can become won.

Had eye herd correctly?
Was she to be the heroin of my erotic desires?
Would her idol eyelet become the hostile for my massed;
the lei around my missal;
the willing recipient for my milky lode?
Would this made bee lane and shortly maid and soon merried to bee my manor's made?
My life's mews?

Asked eye,
Will ewe titan
will ewe pincer,
as my aero of timbre,
of would,
As my poll plums
and augurs its way?

WIll you pore freely,
From that which I have pride?

As my pries was exposed,
its sighs, elicited size,
she staired,
her offal reaction,
showed her desire was true.

Eye was surprised by
her balled sects, bear of hare,
and could bearly wait
to berry, to birth,
my ore
at her pier,
in her fisher,
its rightful hanger for my plain.

At this point much had we disgust,
but phew things had we dun.
And my desire was becoming dyer.

Eye thought, eye have chaste her,
now that eye have caught her,
Would eye find her chased?

Would this be the way to her hart?

Would my steak
brews her,
cause her pane,
or cause her to sore?

Would we be in sink?

Would she caul in joy?
Would there be ooze and owes?
Would there be please for more?
Would she have side in fulfillment?
Would she have whaled in joy?

Would she cantor in pleasure?
And if yes, in what cored.

Would we seer each other in hour desire?

It was a chants eye was willing to risk.

And after, would we dual, doughs having dun what we had?
We would have certainly urned that repose.

Ah, but alas, here eye must paws,
not to overdue this tail,
this tune,
this righting
of wee too in love,
teaming as it is with teasing word play.

(it IS beginning to pane) --

So the fax were these:
Wee, a pear.
Bear.
Ridden and road.
(We did not roux.)
Saled forth.
Soul mates and sole mates.
On a knew faze of our relationship.

I was BOWLED by her approach so BOLD.
She was the ONE whose heart I had WON,
Nothing could ALTER, made it to ALTAR.
(Had been long WAIT, both lost WEIGHT.)
Fun had in the SUN produced first SON.
We made our BREAD to feed children BRED.

I passed my past,
and the younger more fit, more attractive version of myself smiled.
She taunted my wrinkles, laughed at my cracked heels,
But my feet looked tired from traveling up steep hills,
all those years ago.
When I was her.
She pointed at my bruised hands and elbows from when I fell cause I am no longer balanced.
If she gave me one day,I could convince her that we did not
fail at life but won.  
There was never no pane keeping me,
We were free and full of lust.
You craved the world and I embraced happiness and pain from all situations.
We stood on cliffs and asked " What do you see?" you took two steps back and we
answered "We see the sea!" And it was beautiful.
Therefor, you who are me, don't laugh at our old age.
You lived and I will die, We will surly be remembered for something.

I’m still realing  
In anticipation  
of our ceiling  
which has no ration

I`m still reeling  
In anticipation  
Of our sealing  
Born at Creation  
 

Commonly Confusing


Your fetid, slumbering
lumbering mind
revels and reveals
in it's hedonism
smacking of a heroin
heroine
enticing with
means of inciting
while in the collision
of interests, seeking
a collusion of
investments
you affect a change
the effect is change
in the sole of
your soul wandering off
wondering why you pray
for your prey
the disaffected morality
disinfected for the masses
their wares are tempting
while they're wearing a grin
so long as
the truth's never blurted
or bleated
but there is where
your reality's based
basting in your
self appointed ignorance
body wriggling onto
another who just
wants to move on to
a better place
made to bear
the bare blistering howls
of a desecrated altar
desiccated to alter
the coarse course of action
your facade of complaisant
self deprecation
an oral defecation
an aural offense
truthfully complacent
to complement your refuse
and compliment your ego
always sating your
illicit desires
only for the sake of
eliciting a response
from the horde of
cringing proscribing chattel
and your hoard of
prescribed debauchery
the site of such
grisly sights
attempting to titivate
the tortuous path
torturous in nature
titillating only
to those who lose
their already loose
sense of self

sound

my pleasure Broomie

felt that pinch!  :)

the quiet girl


He will be awed by the odd light that fills her eyes
You cannot take it light, that light
It is like a slender knight charging through the night
Weary, weary as the hills and wary
It will show no will to linger
And shall swoon if you touch it too soon
But if you wander here and let the tears fall, you shall be heir
To the land where every ware is a golden noise
That wrings sweet sounds from sweet frightened lips and the sound rings
And shadows of glorious leaves fall every fall.
You will find, if you linger here, that trailing in the seemingly quiet hair of the trees
Are movements that are herds of her words that no man has ever heard before.