Samantha Beardon's Blog, page 55

If I sang it again

​Why do I cling on to things that have gone

If I sang it again, would the refrain be strong

Would my idealised memories really come true?

Or would it be just the same, a future taboo

I need to live in today find a new path

Yesterday has gone, it’s ashes in the hearth

Remember the good and learn from the rest

The past is gone it should never be the best. 

He wants me to join him

​He wants me to join him, in his fantasy land

Put my trust in him and take his hand

 I wonder Is his fantasy false or true

Would to enter it, be something to rue

Is it a world of pain, or  a world of pleasure

Something to avoid, or maybe treasure

Could he please my very core

Leaving me wanting ever more

Am I brave enough to take the plunge

These initial steps can still be expunged 

Maybe enter and watch the play

But stand steadfast if my beliefs are betrayed

He wants me to join him in a cyber world

Give my trust sails unfurled.

Lust or Amore?

I felt the lure , A feeling obscure

It was this feeling, I knew who you were

On the day that we met, I felt the lure

I moved towards you, A feeling so pure

Feeling connected, Emotions affected

I felt the lure, heart unprotected

Such a feeling, lust or amour?

Golf

​Golf a new sport to try

Learn some new skills to satisfy

Learn to hit  a ball with a club

How difficult can it be, unless I hit the scrub

Stand relaxed and swing from the hips

Practice the move, heck have to be a contortionist 

Ready to try, they said go to tee

 Not the drink I expected, but a plastic dinkie

Now I am worried, is golf really kinky

Is this T motorised and kind of pinky?

I take up my stance and swing at the ball

Manage to hit it no trouble at all

Just heard a comment that’s got up my nose

I know I am no vision in these odd clothes

But to mention my flanks is beyond the pale

They tried to change it to shanks, hah a likely tale

Some talk of an iron

Is it forefits to frighten?

If they bring out their smalls 

They can keep their balls

Ah, now somebody just got a birdy

Thats really too much

Killing helpless creatures, that’s so out of touch

I think all this perversion

Is too much for me, is there another version

Maybe I just need a strong cup of tea.

Reblogged.

Restless Romantic Rapture….Adult

​Restless

Romantic 

Rapture

Sensual

Seductive

Smooth

Tantalising

Textured

Touch

Unbridled Passion 

Unexpressed aching

Unquenchable thirst

Desires of the flesh

Deliciously naughty

Desperate need

Meet 

Meld

Make love.

Release 

Rapture

Roused. 

Sonnet 130 William Shakespeare

I was introduced to this recently and what a joy. Whether he is calling a spade a shovel, hes being ironic or he’s using the unvarnished truth, it made me goggle a little and laugh out loud. Although if I was his love I would probably have smacked him! 

My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun;

Coral is far more red than her lips’ red;

If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;

If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.

I have seen roses damasked, red and white,

But no such roses see I in her cheeks;

And in some perfumes is there more delight

Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.

I love to hear her speak, yet well I know

That music hath a far more pleasing sound;

I grant I never saw a goddess go;

My mistress when she walks treads on the ground.

 And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare

  As any she belied with false compare.

An ode to Pilates planks

​Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum

Walk the plank, give it some

Hang on wait, its not that kind of plank

But if you mutiny, it’s you in the tank

You have different ways to warm your tums

Down on the floor, a line of ummm bums

Dressed in your best

Foreswear the rest

Push up straight

Don’t vegetate

Suck in your abs and remember to breath

Straight as an arrow, no, no you can’t leave

Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum

At the end of this, you deserve a crumb

The sponsors will track 

Your time on the rack

Straight as an arrow

Just don’t crack.

Feet

​I quite like feet,

I think they are kind of neat,

If you believe in birth signs,

There might be a link,

Pisces like feet I think,

They should be our heroes,

 In praise they get zeros,

They carry our weight,

Though they are a part, we might hate,

As erogenous zones go,

For many, they are a no go,

Sucking toes  seems to induce shudders,

Not of desire, but outrage in others,

Poor little feet,

Can be quite sweet,

OK they can pong,

That is very wrong,

But still I have to repeat,

I quite like feet.

Eternal Dream

The bubble has been burst

Will that be the worst

Life gets in the way

Almost every day

Changes put a strain

On relationships normal chain

He/she can make you sad

Also make you mad

Love is but a guide

You cannot run and hide

What is this nebulous thing

The emotion that pulls our string

Attraction, sex and lust

May well just go bust

The underlying theme

That makes our eternal dream

Is a perfect symbosis

With absolutely no neurosis

Its a rare and perfect beast

Easy to become deceased.

I want to reach and touch your hand

​I want to reach and touch your hand

In my mind, I almost can, in this world, fantasyland

You fill my soul with song and light

Add a dimension that meshes just right

We share some parts, of our lives

Though a full account will never arrive

I read your words and scour the lines

For meanings that are left behind

 

But you are oh so far away

Just a dream at the end of the day

This sharing brings some emotional pain

But equally an amount of gain

I accept the limitations of this world

It adds dimension sails unfurled

I close my eyes and all I see

Is a fantasy fading away from me.