The Vine

22 May

The Vine

I dreamed this earthly part of mine,   11329915_355830031277369_4846568505703915054_n
Was metamorphosed to a vine;
Which crawling, creeping, one and every way,
Enthralled my dainty Rose.
Me thought, her creamy, white, legs and thighs,
I with my tendrils did surprise;
Her belly, buttocks, and her slender waist,
By now soft nervelets were embraced.

About her head, I did hang, a writhing tangle of sensuality,
And with rich clusters (hid among the leaves)
her temples I behung,
so that my Rose seemed to me,
Young Bacchus ravished by his tree.
My curls about her neck did crawl,
And arms and hands they did enthral:
So that she could not freely move,
(All her parts made prisoner).

But when I crept with leaves to hide those parts,
which she keeps unespied,
Such fleeting pleasures there I took,
That with that fancy I awoke;
And found (Ah me!) This flesh of mine,
More like a rock hard stock, than like a vine.
~Julia DarkRose
©2012

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