Good morning, good afternoon, good evening, and good night! Whatever time it is where you are, I hope you are well. A while ago,< fa:Marmoratus> opened this gorgeous YCH of a nude woman peering out her window and immediately I saw Perci in her place. Fast forward to now, and I present to you the finished piece. Marmoratus does plenty of amazing YCHs and frequently opens commissions, so feel free to check out her gallery if you like what you see.
\n\nOnce again, I decided to experiment a bit with my writing style; this time, delving into poetry. Given how a lot of my content involving Perci is about Pat’s relationship with her, I decided to switch things up a bit and write a love poem from her first lover Andrew’s point-of-view. It took me a while to find a rhyme scheme I was happy with, but I think it suits Andrew’s prose well.
\n\nIf you’d like a digital copy of the poem, you can find one right here!
\n\nAnd of course I have to thank wellifimust for proofreading, as well as the fine people at the Writer’s Slam at FurPocalypse who let me present this and offered constructive criticism.
\n\nMuse
\nA poem by Andrew Safdie
A morning I was woken much too soon,
\nAs a ray of light did place,
\nBut a touch upon my face,
\nShearing me from slumber’s grace,
\nI raised my weary bones to leave the room,
With tea, I watch the news and soon am spent,
\nCousins far are waging war,
\nPoliticians moan and roar,
\nFossils wash away our shores,
\nCan one find peace in such a world unkempt?
But while my apathy has hit a low,
\nWith a creak upon the floor,
\nShe who dances ‘cross the boards.
\nIs my poodle paramour,
\nHer body bare with everything to show,
An object in some lesser being’s eyes,
\nTo be owned instead of loved,
\nThen forgotten when enough,
\nWashed away by tissue’s scuff,
\nShould one’s mere being lead to such demise?
Well, no, of course! But still, she is no prude,
\nWithout even Eden’s leaves,
\nIn the midst of who perceives,
\nIn a record, she achieves,
\na great arousal showing herself nude,
Does saying this alone appear a gaffe?
\nIrregardless, in her truth,
\nI have found my certain proof,
\nThere in her flamboyant youth,
\nIs more than just a punchline for a laugh,
So take a gander ‘bove her hilltop view,
\nUp the shoulder to the neck,
\nPast the lips I fondly peck,
\nAnd your vision ends its trek,
\nAt eyes that shine an amethystine hue,
A gaze of empathy for all she meets,
\nWhether if it’s for the pride,
\nForeign angels forced to hide,
\nOr war victims who have died,
\nShe sees the strife and marches through the streets,
Her smile and laugh, too, rest upon her face,
\nConversations that she spores,
\nFrom the questions she implores,
\nAnd the way she says, “I’m yours,”
\nCan leave my knotted mind as light as lace,
But ‘neath the skin and bone, there lies her mind,
\nMagna Writ in her degree,
\nPsych eval, her specialty,
\nLets her see so easily,
\nThe masks the modern man must hide behind.
She sees the kindness longing to come out,
\nThrough the compliments of praise,
\nOr the sighs of bland malaise,
\nOr the swears of maddened blaze,
\nShe spots the better person through the doubt,
And with agape, highest of all love,
\nShe strips away the gall,
\nA better self with ev’ry spall,
\nLeft the purest you of all,
\nA feeling almost proof of God above,
So while her black ram tuppeth my white ewe,
\nAs she sits upon the sill,
\nLooking out at Autumn’s chill,
\nVisible and unclad still,
\nNo lust is there behind my “I love you!”
In her, my role, my heart and soul eclipsed,
\nEven in the insecure,
\nMorn’ is made by her allure,
\nAs I hug her I’ll be sure,
\nTo kiss her head before I kiss her lips.
~Signed with love,
\nAndrew Safdie