ELLPUS NEEDS HELP WITH LOVE POEMS.

You nearly made me wet myself, you know.

I ask, is it fair to post something that funny with no warning?

Sometimes I am simply bananas, you know.

Uh oh.

Having thought long and hard as to how I can intensify the passion, I have decided to step things up a notch.

I am pretty sure that the sophistication is there in those first attempts, but the wording seems to a bit......boring. There, I've said it.


How do those swarthy foreigners do this sort of thing, with such ease?

Why is it, that an Italian for instance, can say anything he likes and have all the women flying about the place, looking for electrical gadgets.

For all they know, old Alphonso might be saying:- " To be honest, your face looks like it has been in a collision with a frying pan, but hey, if you treat me to a slap up dinner and promise to put a bag over your head, I would consider boffing you"
Now, the average non Italian speaking woman would just hear lots of words like Fettucini amore con vista vermicelli dooozo fungi al forno...and somehow twist it around in her head to mean "God, you are the most desirable woman on earth etc etc"

I mean to say, what exactly IS the essence of romance?

Well......I think I have discovered the answer. SENTIMENTALITY.

Women love it. So...I scratched my head for a while and suddenly realised that sentimentalism has gone out of the modern Anglo Saxon language!

What I have done, therefore, has been to look at the works of English poets from a bygone age. Obviously, I have chosen the great Bard himself as a shining example of sentimentalism, and have managed to incorporate several of his more tender lines into a poem that I have written.
I am quite proud of it, if I say so myself. Finally, I can bring the necessary sequence of love words into play, and am very optimistic that it should be of great assistance to my prospective wooing.


Now....this poem is to be whispered into the ear of my loved one, DURING the unspeakable act. It should raise the old temperature and bring forth all sorts of appreciative whimperings.

Here goes.....................




<AHEM>


Summers day. A heartfelt love poem to be spoken softly, just as a succesful entrance is being achieved.




Shall I compare thee to a summers day?, (as I give a little push)
Your radiance is dazzling and a fire is in your bush
But thy eternal summer, shall not fade or go asunder
For I shall douse your parts, my love, with a stream of golden wonder.

So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see your boobies
I'll ride you like a mare, m'dear, when I know where the lube is
Nature's changing course untrimm'd, I'll seek out your Clematis
And bang it for a little while, then have a short hiatus

When I behold the violet, past finding its Nirvana
I'll rest the todger from the fray and light up a havana
Since beauty doth itself refresh, you'll wake up far from grumpy
And I'll reload the blunderbuss, then serve more rumpy pumpy.


I feel I'm getting there............

Constructive criticism is welcome.

well I better not make any

What I have managed to do, I think, is to create a seamless flow between the Bards immortal words, and those of my own.

I have re-read the poem several times now and, even though I wrote it myself, I have found it difficult to tell which words are mine.

A very satisfactory exercise.

Wordsworth next, methinks..........

Exactly milord. You took the words out of my mouth. Regarding Wordsworth, might I be so bold as to suggest that you concentrate on the ... ahem... how can one say this...the more earthy pleasures of the flesh than anything necessarily to do with daffodils?

My love is like a unicorn
skipping among the d'ffo-dils
kiss me darling, be my porn
but first put down the Yodels

very good Jespah but some way to go i fear before you approach the pinnacle of rhyme as evinced by our noble lord and poet here residing.

"Shall I compare thee to a summers day?, (as I give a little push)
Your radiance is dazzling and a fire is in your bush
But thy eternal summer, shall not fade or go asunder
For I shall douse your parts, my love, with a stream of golden wonder.

So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see your boobies
I'll ride you like a mare, m'dear, when I know where the lube is
Nature's changing course untrimm'd, I'll seek out your Clematis
And bang it for a little while, then have a short hiatus

When I behold the violet, past finding its Nirvana
I'll rest the todger from the fray and light up a havana
Since beauty doth itself refresh, you'll wake up far from grumpy
And I'll reload the blunderbuss, then serve more rumpy pumpy."


I will never be able to look at my favorite flower in the same way again. For sure I will get nightmares! That was my mum's favorite flower too. Forgive him mumsy.

Ellpus, try sincerity too. Women always fall for that trick.