Thirst for romance to please one so divine in spirit.
With earnest i apply to Cupid for a permit to hunt in his grounds. Now very capable of yielding no hidden agenda, license in hand I make my rounds.
The thrill of the hunt is better than the capture for some, not the way i feel.
The call of gentle calm and fire burning desire, electric
confrontation humble me as time we steal.
The presense of jasmine scented fantasy fills the air,
never revealing the face of passion so clear.
East they rise with green thoughts on a new horizon,
pawns in the game with the arrows Cupid supplies them.

I love that. I dislike poetry that uses obscure words simply to use the words themselves. Your poem told a story, drew a picture.
Wonderful.

excellent piece!!

Thank you brothers.

Thank you brothers.

(((( brwn ))))))

Sighhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Thank you Sisters