massage of poetry

massage of poetry

The gentle scaffolding of her verses
Construct the sweetest inspirations
As goosebumps blossomed over me

Her words rubbed my hard muscles
Like an inspiring key that unlocked
Every hidden secret of my anatomy

Soft syllables stroked sweet sensations
Sending me to the point of no return
as her metaphors caressed me to ecstasy

My muse is a masseuse of touching balladry
For no man could ever resist her charms
After her sensual massage of poetry

318 thoughts on “massage of poetry

    1. LOL . HYes, my muse must be loved secretly. If she knew the truth that I adore her, she may alter her writing.
      And Kaboom – everything ruined. Thus I must love her from afar.
      Thank you for sharing your lovely thoughts. Have a gorgeous weekend.

      Liked by 1 person

  1. Love is never lost Andrew people get scared of its power and more than usual they go looking else where…leaving us with questioning what love has to do with this

    Like

  2. Good afternoon, Drew. Thousands of apologies for being late again.

    Wow! What a poem! Words touching the body. The metaphor here is beyond beautiful. Reading your poem makes me feel like I discovered a diamond in a sea of shuttered glass. For this is what your poem is: a gem which shines; light touching souls and helping them bloom; softy whispers on the skin.

    May your inspiration stay with you forever!

    Liked by 1 person

        1. UGH…..with all of the glorious and romantic places to visit (Rio, Mร laga, Venice, Greece), you end up in D.C. (the city of eternal political gridlock). No, not inspiring at all. A city not even worthy your presence.

          Bewitched…. enchanting compliment, Thanks.

          Relax. Play some soft music. Have a coffee with a decadent pastry. Get inspired. Smiling. Cuidate.

          Liked by 1 person

          1. I can see you have a lot of fun in the comments, everyone has a lot of fun in your comments section. Lol.
            WP is annoying when it doesn’t take you back to the reply and you have to scroll through to find the convo you were having. Surprised they haven’t fixed that.
            Have fun. ๐Ÿ˜

            Liked by 1 person

  3. A scented oil, and
    Strong fingers
    Penetrate to your bones.
    Pearls on a string
    Bead after bead, like a
    Wind, a gentle breeze
    Around the neck of
    An unsuspecting mermaid
    Swim freely.
    The oceanโ€™s proud
    Curled white tipped waves pound
    The shore, insisting
    Who is better to wear
    Pearls?
    You will only sell them for money!
    The treasured one will
    Imbue your aches with
    Honey.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Oh my gosh! I LOVE the way you describe your Muse, Drew! I myself am now covered in goosebumps. I never equated a Muse with a massage and you’ve got me thinking about that “image” right now. Incredible and powerful piece that I absolutely enjoyed and understood as well. “Something” takes over me, both with my camera and my writing and I just KNOW there is a Higher Source guiding me. As it would seem holds true for you too!! Yowza! What an evocative way to spend “time” listening and being with a Muse. ๐Ÿ‘๐Ÿผ๐Ÿ‘๐Ÿผ๐Ÿ‘๐Ÿผ

    Liked by 1 person

    1. You made me smile. Thank you for your gorgeous words. Let me tell you, you have a little muse in you. That last post I just read was as inspirational as anything a muse could ever provide.

      Thank you for your kind words. They are treasures here.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. I have NO doubt I have a Muse. Sometimes I myself have trouble believing what comes from both my camera and my words. Amazing process!!! And you are so welcome for the kind words. You deserve every one of them, Drew!! โ˜บ๏ธ

        Liked by 1 person

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