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Click here"Hemidemisemiquaver,"
She knows I am doing her a favor,
With quick breaths of passionate labor,
Forte--Forte
"Breve,"
She slows to catch her wind,
And to give his instrument a rest,
Gusto--Gusto
"Demisemiquaver,"
We start again in slower cadence,
She in all her radiance,
Legato—Legato.
"Crotchet,"
Her young body making music,
Of its own accord,
Maestoso—Maestoso.
"Quaver,"
Her voice tries to sing,
With words unintelligible ring
De Capo—De Capo.
"Vibrato,"
Gooseflesh rises to her body's surprise,
As her song shivering to me in crescendos cry.
Fortissimo—Fortissimo.
"Hemidemisemiquaver,"
She is doing me a favor,
She all satisfied,
Istesso tempo--Istesso tempo.
"Bravo--Bravo!"
We both pant,
In descant,
Dolce—Dolce.
I have read his poems at least a dozen times... it is only fair that I should give him a five star baby baby baby
I am a music major at the big W, and you put a smile on my face Mr Iqespresso. I don't know how well our football team will do this year but, there is always music.
An old man with talent that plays a young violin, sweet-sweet music you make with rhythm of poetry, just isn't fair. Your girls at WWU
I love and teach music and read the erotic. Hemidemisemiquaver is a 64th note that can only be done with violin and bow, or a vibratto within a wind instrument, so Mr. Iqespresso you are a very talented lover indeed so I read.
The older the violin the sweeter the music?
Lovely.
I have a feeling this rhythm is going to be stuck on loop in my head.
One of the best poems I've read here in awhile. It's one of those poems you can't stop reading once you've started. Very inspiring!