I’ve set aside some awe for this. It is rich like maple syrup, ‘Custard lips curling’, ‘kiss bliss’ – a soft tale of dreams in the wind, a slightly salacious slice of amour courtesy of robbrownaswood.
By ROBBROWNASWOOD Re-blogged June 14, 2014 View the original here – LILY LOVE LILY
I saw creamy lilies on my romping stroll. Custard lips curling in fear of the harsh world. But perhaps it was shrinking from modesty, not one to show off in pomposity, not to avail itself with all those kind whispers. Such a docile delicate beauty tilting towards the sun but hugging the shadows. Timid little girl wishing to be tall as the trees. The secret wishes, the funny little dreams of the bashful flower that must not be spoken.
The wind visited and picked up its spirits for just a tiny spell. Heavy heads gets support from friendly gales on their way up north. Spring coolness coloring a steeped sepia afternoon. All the world glows seemingly just for her, all the rivers flow just to make lullabies for her. White noise white petals, nature’s dance of harmony, resonance of idolatry. Revere this fortunate fountain of kiss bliss; supple sapling of the valley swooning effortlessly.
There is love all around; just, just amorous twinklings perforating midnight air. The luscious lust clasping atmosphere. Arousal just rises, warmth dissipating up, up to the heavens that long for the romance of the Gayan earth. That tete a tete languid love making taking shaping all the afterglow. The beautiful round on the ever-living blue sphere. Steal a gander at love’s empire.