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Post by Cerpin Taxt on Apr 25, 2006 11:24:35 GMT -1
www.links2love.com/poem_generator.htmHere's mine: Your skin glows like the lemon, blossoms wet as the poppy in the purest hope of spring. My heart follows your drum voice and leaps like a bear at the whisper of your name. The evening floats in on a great robin wing. I am comforted by your sock that I carry into the twilight of roofbeams and hold next to my eyelash. I am filled with hope that I may dry your tears of semen. As my tits falls from my skirt, it reminds me of your chair. In the quiet, I listen for the last bang of the day. My heated face leaps to my underwear. I wait in the moonlight for your secret glass so that we may skipping as one, face to face, in search of the magnificient blue and mystical bowl of love.
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Post by That Chick on Apr 25, 2006 14:30:44 GMT -1
hahahahahahah.
Your skin glows like the banana, blossoms slowly as the primrose in the purest hope of spring.
My heart follows your trombone voice and leaps like a cat at the whisper of your name.
The evening floats in on a great flycatcher wing.
I am comforted by your shirt that I carry into the twilight of toiletbeams and hold next to my feet.
I am filled with hope that I may dry your tears of ribena.
As my eye lashes falls from my socks, it reminds me of your kitten.
In the quiet, I listen for the last loud of the day.
My heated stomach leaps to my trousers. I wait in the moonlight for your secret tail so that we may running as one, stomach to stomach, in search of the magnificient blue and mystical chair of love.
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Post by Kanenite on Apr 25, 2006 15:38:12 GMT -1
Your skin glows like the Apricot, blossoms Pure as the Rose in the purest hope of spring. My heart follows your Guitar voice and leaps like a Giraffe at the whisper of your name. The evening floats in on a great Eagle wing. I am comforted by your Earmuffs that I carry into the twilight of Large wheelbeams and hold next to my Arm. I am filled with hope that I may dry your tears of Ribena. As my Nose falls from my Overly Comical Sock, it reminds me of your A 70ft Long Piece of String. In the quiet, I listen for the last Splash of the day. My heated Stomach leaps to my Shirt. I wait in the moonlight for your secret Varnished Automobile so that we may Cooking as one, Stomach to Stomach, in search of the magnificient Red and mystical Antique Cabinet of love.  |
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Post by pezzer123 on Apr 25, 2006 15:59:23 GMT -1
that's weird
My Love
Your skin glows like the apple, blossoms creepy as the grass in the purest hope of spring.
My heart follows your bongo voice and leaps like a moose at the whisper of your name.
The evening floats in on a great sparrow wing.
I am comforted by your shirt that I carry into the twilight of funelbeams and hold next to my lip.
I am filled with hope that I may dry your tears of piss.
As my toe falls from my sock, it reminds me of your wig.
In the quiet, I listen for the last squark of the day.
My heated forehead leaps to my hat. I wait in the moonlight for your secret road so that we may farting as one, forehead to forehead, in search of the magnificient red and mystical Dvd of love.
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