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Carnal Moon
consumed by the spirits of the ash and the oak
through their realm i wished to tread.
to dwell within their ancient verse
whispering through the faery dust.
my passage earned by appeasing
the Gods of this mere earth.
you, the Gods of this sylvan breath
hear the utterance of my nightly spells.
within these shadows i am wanton,
hidden in the recesses of this forest.
once upon a day, pagan and primevial i touched
the hearts of satyrs through their collegial phalluses.
dripping honey from the orifices of panpipes
they fill me completely, fresh and lush as the morning dew.
lost, gazing about, drinking from my fountain of earthly wine
lingering, lips sealed over the sweet taste of ambrosia.
in the night's beauty, I hunt, a hungry she-wolf
starving for lust. my eyes & my tongue, my hands
and my thighs, are my weapons.
satyrs or warriors, shepherds alike, will not
escape the siren song of my craving.
my victim may cower, then rise proudly as my
valiant paramour. he will suckle the tart tangerines
of my breasts, his fingers rewarded with a flowing
baptism of my carniverous chapel.
when he mounts me, I will pull his searing lips to
my throat's ivory tower. his thrusting
will encourage my delerium. when he fills me with the
flood of his dominance, I will scream...
the forest all around will know that I came,
and I conquered...
through their realm i wished to tread.
to dwell within their ancient verse
whispering through the faery dust.
my passage earned by appeasing
the Gods of this mere earth.
you, the Gods of this sylvan breath
hear the utterance of my nightly spells.
within these shadows i am wanton,
hidden in the recesses of this forest.
once upon a day, pagan and primevial i touched
the hearts of satyrs through their collegial phalluses.
dripping honey from the orifices of panpipes
they fill me completely, fresh and lush as the morning dew.
lost, gazing about, drinking from my fountain of earthly wine
lingering, lips sealed over the sweet taste of ambrosia.
in the night's beauty, I hunt, a hungry she-wolf
starving for lust. my eyes & my tongue, my hands
and my thighs, are my weapons.
satyrs or warriors, shepherds alike, will not
escape the siren song of my craving.
my victim may cower, then rise proudly as my
valiant paramour. he will suckle the tart tangerines
of my breasts, his fingers rewarded with a flowing
baptism of my carniverous chapel.
when he mounts me, I will pull his searing lips to
my throat's ivory tower. his thrusting
will encourage my delerium. when he fills me with the
flood of his dominance, I will scream...
the forest all around will know that I came,
and I conquered...
Published 21st May 2013
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21st May 2013 9:29am
classically written & coupled w/a classical painting, sensually stunning...
Anonymous
21st May 2013 12:05pm
Agreeing completely with Mr. Feddeler. Such a mixture of victorian vibe, paganism, mythological imagery.......and pure sensuality rolled up in one.
Stunning....... : )
Stunning....... : )
