Romantic Interlude
 

brough to you by the makers of ..... :D

P.L. Dunbar~

COME when the nights are bright with stars
Or when the moon is mellow;
Come when the sun his golden bars
Drops on the hay-field yellow.
Come in the twilight soft and gray,
Come in the night or come in the day,
Come, O love, whene'er you may,
And you are welcome, welcome.

You are sweet, O Love, dear Love,
You are soft as the nesting dove.
Come to my heart and bring it rest
As the bird flies home to its welcome nest.

Come when my heart is full of grief
Or when my heart is merry;
Come with the falling of the leaf
Or with the redd'ning cherry.
Come when the year's first blossom blows,
Come when the summer gleams and glows,
Come with the winter's drifting snows,
And you are welcome, welcome.

Wild Nights
by Emily Dickinson

Wild nights. Wild nights!
Were I with thee,
Wild nights should be
Our luxury!

Futile the winds
To a heart in port
Done with the compass
Done with the chart.

Rowing in Eden.
Ah, the sea.
Might I but moor
Tonight with thee!

Love Not Me
by John Wilbye

Love not me for comely grace,
For my pleasing eye or face,

Nor for any outward part:
No, nor for a constant heart!
For these may fail or turn to ill:
Should thou and I sever.

Keep, therefore, a true woman's eye,
And love me still, but know not why!
So hast thou the same reason still
To dote upon me ever.

:bump: :loveshowe Bumping this because I feel like a big ol' Mushball today

that emily was quite the eroticist. ;)

come slowly

come slowly, eden
lips unused to thee.
bashful, sip thy jasmines,
as the fainting bee,
reaching late his flower,
round her chamber hums,
counts his nectars -alights,
and is lost in balms!

All I Ever Wanted Is in You
By: Steve Kelly

All I ever wanted is in you:
Love, laughter, a pillow for my fears.
I want to give and to be given to
So I might feel myself flow through the years
Alive in you, the wonder of my tears.

Dedicated to our fair Lady Lilith. :)


"My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun"


My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips' red:
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damask'd, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak,--yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw a goddess go,
My mistress when she walks, treads on the ground;
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare.
~William Shakespeare

*swoons* beautiful