deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Pixie
We met in a wood,my wood ,
my wood I share with an old man.
She was of the pixies,sparse dressed
long black hair,white thighs free of hair
clear eyes,dazzling smile,soft lips that
bid me kiss as I kneel to worship the
proffered hall set down from mount Olympus
Why me this gift its sacred oils and scents
tempting the bee to suck ... ... and me.
I wish to enter,press my case careful of
her wishes Does she wish me to invade ?
Open secrets,deep within her form ?
Dark, warm and welcome bathed in nectar
join with them,alchemy distilled by gods
to share on earth,what no poem can recite.
my wood I share with an old man.
She was of the pixies,sparse dressed
long black hair,white thighs free of hair
clear eyes,dazzling smile,soft lips that
bid me kiss as I kneel to worship the
proffered hall set down from mount Olympus
Why me this gift its sacred oils and scents
tempting the bee to suck ... ... and me.
I wish to enter,press my case careful of
her wishes Does she wish me to invade ?
Open secrets,deep within her form ?
Dark, warm and welcome bathed in nectar
join with them,alchemy distilled by gods
to share on earth,what no poem can recite.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 3
reading list entries 0
comments 2
reads 413
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.