Prose, Poetry, And All Its Metaphors

[Larsen M. Callirhoe]

Prose, Poetry, And All Its Metaphors

 

Such is all of life and this is where I begin. In all its heyday, luster, and grandeur there lies nothing like thee. I love you with all my heart. All at once you melt in my mouth like creamy chocolate, yet feel like the hot steam of a soothing relaxing whirlpool bathe which I do enjoy taking, dearly.

 

Yet, the metaphor of life is just you. O poetry that speaks to my soul magic words of real life weaved majestically engraved and etched upon my thoughts. A painting of serene tranquil colors painted vividly verve cannot tell of. Words of breadth that fill my belly that sustains me in all-life giving. You speak to me affections that are tender to touch as I breathe down your neck like my beloved I pledged my life to.

 

I set upon you all my love the greatest masterpiece of words I can write and relate to thee. If I sang you my tune the love song I wrote just for you please let it not be about the blues. But, yet, still let it be a play upon my heart like children dancng in an afternoon park. Just another walk in life as we learn about the birds and the bees. Who can tell me pray tell is it called just this as the birds chirp to me singing there song the bees sting me when I am not alert. Why does it have to be this way?

 

When in words stirring from the passionate tempest of my heart as my blood boils and my temperature soars in all its sickness yes I still love you through thick in thin and good and bad. In mere words which in its aficionado I will call out thy name in all my caring compassionate dreams, hoping alas it is not your nightmare but your purse of love that I give you. Yes as passionate as I am please take me the way I am. Maybe one day I will write you a better tune then the one I give you now. I am asking, so please accept my hand proposal and say you do. That is all I ever canst asketh of thee.