Share your favourite love poem!
Any language is OK, feel free to translate it into English if you wish.
My sweet little whorish Nora I did as you told me,
you dirty little girl,
and pulled myself off twice when I read your letter.
I am delighted to see that you
do like being fucked arseways. Yes,
now I can remember that night when I fucked you
for so long backwards.
It was the dirtiest fucking I ever gave you, darling.
My prick was stuck in you for hours,
fucking in and out under your upturned rump.
I felt your fat sweaty buttocks under my belly
and saw your flushed face and mad eyes.
At every fuck I gave you your shameless tongue
came bursting out through your lips and if
I gave you a bigger stronger fuck than usual,
fat dirty farts came spluttering out of your backside.
You had an arse full of farts that night, darling,
and I fucked them out of you,
big fat fellows,
long windy ones,
quick little merry cracks
and a lot of tiny little naughty farties
ending in a long gush from your hole.
It is wonderful to fuck a farting woman
when every fuck drives one out of her.
I think I would know Nora's fart anywhere.
I think I could pick hers out
in a roomful of farting women.
It is a rather girlish noise
not like the wet windy fart which I imagine fat wives have.
It is sudden and dry and dirty
like what a bold girl would let off in fun
in a school dormitory at night.
I hope Nora will let off no end of her farts
in my face so that I may know their smell also.
Love looks not with the eyes... (William Shakespeare)
>>7676352
the ecstasy by donne is the single greatest love poem ever written and if you disagree with me you're blatantly incorrect
Devouring Time, blunt thou the lion's paws,
And make the earth devour her own sweet brood;
Pluck the keen teeth from the fierce tiger's jaws,
And burn the long-liv'd phoenix, in her blood;
Make glad and sorry seasons as thou fleet'st,
And do whate'er thou wilt, swift-footed Time,
To the wide world and all her fading sweets;
But I forbid thee one most heinous crime:
O! carve not with thy hours my love's fair brow,
Nor draw no lines there with thine antique pen;
Him in thy course untainted do allow
For beauty's pattern to succeeding men.
Yet, do thy worst old Time: despite thy wrong,
My love shall in my verse ever live young.
>>7677419
Great taste. That's my favorite too.
