~ Eleanor / A Thousand Leagues ~
~ A Thousand Leagues (from her heart) ~
A dram from thine lips makes the whole world taste sweet,
Whence old soul from new quips flow fine drink and her meat;
Belle's life be a mast, avast love be my sail,
Nowst awaiting warm lungs of our sky to exhale.
Ye ruleth thro' seat of our secret affection,
Robed in womanly charms bathed in lovers' reflection;
Thee wait, though hath ne'er seen tenderest buds move,
Erstwhile mouths spaketh love, what of truth shall they prove?
My heart is a lion; your velvet, a sheep;
Whose golden paws brace thee when lain down to sleep.
Relinquish thouest love, for thy storge, giants fell,
'Mongst our life, spirits wrest, binding satyrs in hell.
We stalleth trothplight garnering wealth for this quest,
To prepare for a time we could grant bairn our best;
Our strength yields us fruit for we verily seek good,
So canst birth newborn son cleansed by Sire's royal blood.
~~~ Eleanor ~~~
An Original, Lyrical Poem.
Swart nights of forties Paris tattoo d'amour within her eyes,
Cerulean breaths 'pon June respire, conceding swoons in withered sighs.
Breeze ushers thee unto the mystic parlour of thy thoughts,
Beneath those kissing curls and retro whorls of grandeur, splendour-wrought.
Apprized esprit in reverie surmount veiled years of which thouest ponder,
Aye, of brigantines and queens suffused in wild accents of yonder. ©
~ Music Slideshow By R.Q. ~
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