The sweet path to the city of slumbering lovers' dreams, la jolie Paris, is a path that is forever to be pervasive, persuasive, perusive and predictably unpredictable, in every poetic form,for the path is long since paves, long since well trodden, worn flat by the lovers' feet of ancient histories of a passion prior, previous and premiere to the passions of the current day of plastic pastiches, a plenty and ever more, ever galore.
As these fresh, womb damp and moist, dream fuelled, whim filled, love inspired toes tread gently upon the delicate dreams of a forgotten lover towards to point of romantic ecstasy, I write a poem to whisper to you, alone.
For this poem is a whisper of an eternal good night.
As these fresh, womb damp and moist, dream fuelled, whim filled, love inspired toes tread gently upon the delicate dreams of a forgotten lover towards to point of romantic ecstasy, I write a poem to whisper to you, alone.
For this poem is a whisper of an eternal good night.
