|Blogs > fexiedog > IT'S A DAWGS LIFE|
Her Mousy brown, falling cascade of scented, tussled, sleep tossed hair.
Lips, warm, sleep puffed and soft.
The gauze filtered sunlight fills her sparkling eyes;
those self conscience, downcast, blue gray semi-circled orbs.
The sun bleached blowing curtains twist and swirl ;
in a wild gyrating dance, like a demented cotton specter,
around her, reposed and languorous form.
Sail white sheets in disarray; her wrinkled, linen nest
Her alluring, loosely gathered, transparent gown
drapes silk heavy over her thin rolling frame.
Her marble hard, smooth stretching legs and lithesome thighs.
This sweet refrain of perfect composition