Islands of Illusion


Islands of Illusion

The island of lost gardens allow me to float into memory,
Blinking within moments of pleasurable times from afore,
Hinting of forgotten goddesses’ caught in times’ history,
Like frozen statues carelessly whispering on my shores,
Watching spider less webs caressing pillars like restless chiffon,
And scattered shells rhythmically pulsating their wares,
Caught up am l, in hypnotic and alluringly sultry imaginations,
Remembering forbidden fruits and misty sunset snares,
Of surrealistic silks brushing against aroused rosebuds,
And mirrors of the lacy hourglass languishing through hazy nights,
Curvaceous reefs of coral brightest in the suns’ dying bloods,
And ravishing bodies entwined in magical heavenly spice,

Yet, sitting within my gardens of ancient time and memories,
Thinking of yesterdays’ vibrant and rustling silkiness,
I ask myself what l miss most of the plundered treasuries,
And were there any forgotten jewels of fluorescence,
Was it the smiles of pearled grace, or the sexy alluring voices?
Or the way the breezes would catch upon their hair on a windy day,
Would it be pleasures like these that would command my choices?
Or simply more down to earth romantic orientated plays,
Should l choose to foolishly think of blossoming loves?
And be transfixed upon the petals of floating affairs,
Caught up in clouded and cynical refuges of the white doves,
When in reality, these visions end in tears,

Am l to soil my memories by recalling monsters that dwell,
Deep within the archived vaults of forgotten times,
Souls that cherished nothing more than to create merry hell,
When love had vanished and they became so unkind,
Or do l journey into horizons closer to shore,
Allowing shallower reality to present my jeweled choice,
From all the women l have adored, loved and more,
But for peace of mind choose not to hear their voice,
Nay, l do not miss yearning souls, nor unashamed blushing hearts,
These days as back afore l am more easily impressed,
Aroused and hypnotically allured by the finer and unforgotten art,
Of what all men refer to as a ‘glimpse of breast‘,


At times just the merest hint and suggestiveness of their presence,
Is enough to send my mind racing through erotic frenzies,
For downward or sideward glances of ample cleavage is a beguiling pleasance,
And beautiful pairs will always hear me address them as your ‘excellencies’,
Be they gently swaying teasingly behind loose and silken chiffon sheers,
Or held taut and pert in lacy and revealing lingerie,
With others confined controversially in corsets looking austere,
Their voluptuous and bodacious presence is undoubtedly risqué,
Just sitting here, mentally like a rabbit caught in the approaching beam,
Thinking lazily on how these magnificent beauties can be contained,
Behind Wonder bras, playful hands and of course whipped cream,
……….. Leaves me somewhat tingly and somewhat strained!

Walked have l before, amongst flora’s in the gardens of Eden,
Enjoying the scent and aromas’ of perfumed roses,
Sampling and tasting the delights of all the fruits eaten,
Whilst teasing the promises of sensually arranged posies,
Traced amorously outlines of beautifully soft silhouettes,
Under apprehensive and nervous fingertips,
The nakedness of their treasured passions with no regrets,
Before consuming their gentleness with hungry moistened lips,
And lost in thought, within my islands of  time,
Do l recollect the softness and provocative of each swell,
Remembering with clarity their warmth of a balmy night time,
And how they would mesmerize me under their seductive spell,

Venturing excitedly over such sweetly curved mounds,
Of rosy coloured cream flesh with aroused peaks,
Tantalizingly offering ripened fruits that can still astound,
The seasoned veteran with an array of techniques.
Suggesting alone to the ravenous heart, unbridled nightly pleasures,
And reminding us of feminine pastures that require seeding,
Romantically demanding our undivided attention in sexual leisure,
Whilst visually stimulating our minds towards fertile feasting,
Breast relishing is truly an erotically fascinating experience,
For beginner, novice and more hardened appetites,
But still, the briefest of glimpses is no less mysterious,
And will continue to wither all prisoners’ of this age old delight!

© Rory Matier 2015


Images courtesy of Pixabay Images

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