Wet be the honeyed dew of wild intent. Sonnet
Morpheus, thy amorphous bed it seems
in ivories of those restless dreams
That from unbridled fraenums of thy touch
parted lips they would, a savoured feeling such.
To bring such sense elation sought,
with tingled salivated trembles wrought.
Such cries sucrose ere ecstasy apply
and testacies, a promised will neer die.
Screams dark the night in passions plea,
amorous restlessness, it imprisons me.
Soft sirens voice in searching need
its nebulous of promises, indeed.
Drips it the honeyed dew of wild intent.
Loves playful tongue sweeter a touching spent.
Morchuis