Viole(n)t Dreams

When she first saw his rough daub she just said:
 "Oh!" Then she stood at gaze, for it was such
A picture that, when seen from master's bed,
Might make one sick with longing; and for much
More than the dry turf painted or the pale
Dog violets that love chalk, or the soft hum
Of bees and scent of thyme, that could not fail
To charm, while he enjoyed her and the sum
Of all her parts; the sweep of the landscape
Against the sky offset by foreground - see:
Her form, as etched there, dressed in that mauve crepe
That hangs over a chair; and she can be
Prepared for painting in quite different hues:
The colours Master now sees fit to choose.

(which may involve a beating and a bruise
or two, before his cock and her cunt fuse)

(smiles)