I cannot believe, this very dove
With which I once shared immense love
Is perched on my windowsill
Singing to me in a voice soft as silk
….
Years back, it made me smile and glow
Yet I knew deep down I’d one day let it go…
With my heart as tight and hard as my fist
I stood by and watched it fade away like mist

So what is this music I hear this day?
Riding on the back of past times from, far, far away…
Filling my heart with such sweet melodies
Stuffing contagious laughter in my cheeks?

Vice prick levelling the salt
the fingers bleed moist like a delicate
Brachhetto d Aqui

there are cool timid voices
the sister wells
thrown down a rope they sing

quick goes the bucket before they
can haul you in
a busband was what they wanted

so many voices singing in the rain
and terrace tops

JUDYANNE'S PROSE:-

Spring is fragile, easily banished by the south wind. Despite the presage of warmer and sunnier days to come with the welcome northerly breeze of yesterday, a cold, wintry wind blew. Today, when the sun rose from the desert in the east and slowly brightened it, the morning sky would be covered from horizon to horizon with a blanket of multi-coloured fluffy cloud that looks just like wool on a sheep.

Let me arouse you

No man, no woman,

no two men or women together,

can lie in solitary solitude,

in a single bed untouched.

the male's,

particularly of teens

rises hard as bone,

morning wood

as if forever,

then they two have to manipulate the clitoris,

as man can cum within moments

but women take eons,

so as the manipulations are on,

then sucked

that licked

all is now needed is a slight fix

once the lubricated two
are within each other,