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Thread: My First Love

  1. #1
    Registered User
    Join Date
    Jun 2013

    My First Love

    Invited into your secret garden
    to explore your virgin store, brimming
    on newly-transplanted, exotic tree
    Mounting your nubile platform, then
    coasting down the smooth-bore crown
    into your, soft, leafy pillow
    guarded by supple but fragile bark
    Patches of opal blooms rim the crest
    Breaching the delicate, narrow channel,
    I sip the exotic pink buds that gild your canopy

    From your voluptuous crest
    descending to shaded bough
    Thin, spindly limbs my trestle
    At the base your frilly girth spreads
    A musty scent of wet moss rises,
    but the spongy tread is missing
    Splayed blooms of Buddha's Hand
    spread their frothy apron
    revealing the savory Rose hips
    With my probing fingers, I snip
    the thread-ends, then squeeze the tips
    The frothy milk oozes onto my fingers

  2. #2
    Registered User
    Join Date
    Nov 2010
    This poem reads like all the most ridiculous parts of a dime-store romance novel stitched together la mad libs. The real act of mastery would be writing this and keeping a straight face.

    May you forever mount the nubile platform,


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