gri_2003_m_46_b03_f04_012

Max. dissimilarity: 0.071
Mean dissimilarity: 0.035
Image votes: 0.0

Transcribers

65840279 - Moggsy8
WINNER - 65858464 - mar15ted
65919799 - SusanMorley53425
65962716 - pleiades33
66100264 - dreamspace
66132829 - WiltedLotus

65840279 - Moggsy8

THE MASQUE OF WATER TWO
Stratagems of crimson
Like the mouth of a woman
Open shapely as Love's bow
With yes and not no.

Lion:

Florna, sensual as they come, provocative garden-statue,
offers shapely blooms; but, no, my love has flowers in her arm-pits.

A Song by Gala Mour:

Illusive and glamourous
As symbolist poems, those
Floating sonnets touch our life
with wings as smooth as a new sheath,
Or, see, their rhymes flashing
Bracelets like vieux Saturn's rings,
Yielding suade cowboy gloves
Soft as the air of those in love.
Tangerine velvet cartwheels
V-necks and tartan stoles.
Repoussoirs or lapels
Send sight to neck and breast of swan, oh, belle.

Lion:

But my love, nude, makes absurd these admitted fascinating ingenuities, these accidents compared with the first idea of her body. Another time.

A Song by Minadore:

May is the season of early Renaissance poems
When about still gothic moat float swans
And my lady takes the rose away from our lady
Her gown glides over the green enameled lawns

In elven forests outside her castle
Under skies that giants have sometimes marred with bruises
Equestrian heroes keep Dangers alive
With challenges and all their iron arms glistering

But my lady's stronghold is hollowed like the grail
We have it here and need not go off its trail
May blossom froths and feathers on the orchard
Why look for paradise higher than fruit's promised fall

WINNER - 65858464 - mar15ted

THE MASQUE OF WATER TWO
Stratagems of crimson Like the mouth of a woman Open shapely as Love's bow With yes not no. Lion: Florna, sensual as they come, provocative garden-statue, offers shapely blooms; but, no, my love has flowers in her arm-pits. A Song by Gala Mour: Illusive and glamorous As symbolist poems, those Floating sonnets touch our life With wings as smooth as the new sheath, Or see, their rhymes flashing Bracelets like vieux Saturn's rings, Yielding suede cowboy gloves Soft as the air of those in love. Tangerine velvet cartwheels V-necks and tartan stoles. Repoussoirs of lapels Send sight to neck and breast of swan, oh, belle. Lion: Buy my love, nude, makes absurd these admittedly fascinating ingenuities, these accidents compared with the first idea of her body. Another time. A Song by Minadore: May is the season of early Renaissance poems When about the still gothic moat float swans And my lady takes the rose away from our lady Her gown glides over the green enameled lawns In eleven forests outside her castle Under skies that giants have sometimes marred with bruises Equestrian heroes keep Dangers alive With challenges and all their iron arms glistering But my lady's stronghold is hollowed like the grail We have it here and need not go off on its trail May blossom froths and feathers on the orchard Why look for paradise higher than fruit's promised fall

65919799 - SusanMorley53425

THE MASQUE OF WATER TWO
Stratagems of crimson
Like the mouth of a woman
Open shapely as Love's bow
With yes not no.

Lion:
Florna, sensual as they come, provocative garden-statue,
offers shapely blooms; but, no, my love has flowers in
her arm-pits.

A Song by Gala Mour:

Illusive and glamorous
As symboliste poems, those
Floating sonnets touch our life
With wings as smooth as the new sheath,
Or, see, their rhymes flashing
Bracelets like vieux Saturn's rings,
Yielding suede cowboy gloves
Soft as the air of those in love.
Tangerine velvet cartwheels
V-necks and tartan stoles.
Repoussoirs of lapels
Send sight to neck and breast of swan, oh, bell.

Lion:
But my love, nude, makes absurd these admittedly fascin-
ating ingenuities, these accidents compared with the first
idea of her body. Another time.

A Song by Minadore :
May is the season of early Renaissance poems
When about the still gothic moat float swans
And my lady takes the rose away from our lady
Her gown glides over the green enameled lawns
In eleven forests outside her castle
Under skies that giants have sometimes marred with bruises
Equestrian heroes keep Dangers alive
With challenges and all their iron arms glistering
But my lady's stronghold is hollowed like the grail
We have it here and need not go off on its trail
May blossom froths and feathers on the orchard
Why look for paradise higher than fruit's promised fall

65962716 - pleiades33

THE MASQUE OF WATER TWO

Stratagems of crimson
Like the mouth of a woman
Open shapely as Love's bow
With yes not no.

Lion:

Florna, sensual as they come, provocative garden-statue, offers shapely blooms; but, no, my love has flowers in her arm-pits.

A Song by Gala Mour:

Illusive and glamorous
As symboliste poems, those
Floating sonnets touch our life
With wings as smooth as the new sheath,
Or, see, their rhymes flashing
Bracelets like vieux Saturn's rings,
Yielding suade cowboy gloves
Soft as the air of those in love.
Tangerine velvet cartwheels
V-necks and tartan stoles.
Repoussoirs of lapels
Send sight to neck and breast of swan, oh, belle.

Lion:

But my love, nude, makes absurd these admittedly fascinating ingenuities, these accidents compared with the first idea of her body. Another time.

A Song by Minadore:

May is the season of early Renaissance poems
When about the still gothic moat float swans
And my lady takes the rose away from our lady
Her gown glides over the green enamelled lawns

In eleven forests outside her castle
Under skies that giants have sometimes marred with bruises
Equestrian heroes keep Dangers alive
With challenges and all their iron arms glistering

But my lady's stronghold is hollowed like the grail
We have it here and need not go off on its trail
May blossom froths and feathers on the orchard
Why look for paradise higher than fruit's promised fall

66100264 - dreamspace

THE MASQUE OF WATER TWO
Stratagems of crimson
Like the mouth of a woman
Open shapely as Love's bow
With yes not no.
Lion:
Florna, sensual as they come, provocative garden-statue, offers shapely blooms; but, no, my love has flowers in her arm-pits.
A song by Gala Mour:
Illusive and glamorous
As symboliste poems, those
Floating sonnets touch our life
With wings as smooth as the new sheath,
Or, see, their rhymes flashing
Braclets like vieux Saturn's rings,
Yielding suade cowboy gloves
Soft as the air of those in love.
Tangerine velvet cartwheels
V-necks and tartan stoles.
Repoussoirs of lapels
Send sight to neck and breast of swan, oh, belle.
Lion:
But my love, nude, makes absurd these admittedly fascinating ingenuities, these accidents compared with the first idea of her body. Another time.
A song by Minadore:
May is the season of early Renaissance poems
When about the still gothic moat float swans
And my lady takes the rose away from our lady
Her gown glides over the green enameled lawns

In eleven forests outside her castle
Under skies that giants have sometimes marred with bruises
Equestrain heroes keep Dangers alive
WIth challenges and all their iron arms glistering

But my lady's stronghold is hollowed like the grail
We have it here and need not go off on its trail
May blossom froths and feathers on the orchard
Why look for paradise higher than fruit's promised fall

66132829 - WiltedLotus

THE MASQUE OF WATER TWO

Stratagems of crimson
Like the mouth of a woman
Open shapely as Love's bow
With yes not no.

Lion:

Florna, sensual as they come, provocative garden-statue,
offers shapely blooms; but, no, my love has flowers in
her arm-pits.

A Song by Gala Mour:

Illusive and glamorous
As symboliste poems, those
Floating sonnets touch our life
With wings as smooth as the new sheath,
Or, see, their rhymes flashing
Bracelets like vieux Saturn's rings,
Yielding suede cowboy gloves
Soft as the air of those in love.
Tangerine velvet cartwheels
V-necks and tartan stoles.
Repoussoirs of lapels
Send sight to neck and breast of swan, oh, belle.

Lion:

But my love, nude, makes absurd these admittedly fascin-
ating ingenuities these accidents compared with the first
idea of her body. Another time.

A Song by Minadore:

May is the season of early Renaissance poems
When about the still gothic moat float swans
And my lady takes the rose away from our lady
Her gown glides over the green enamelled lawns

In eleven forests outside her castle
Under skies that giants have sometimes marred with bruises
Equestrian heroes keep Dangers alive
With challenges and all their iron arms glistering

But my lady's stronghold is hollowed like the grail
We have it here and need not go off on its trail
May blossom froths and feathers on the orchard
Why look for paradise higher than fruit's promised fall

Previous document

Next document