spewing bronze elves

I walked the garden paths, past the fountain with spewing bronze elves, past the bust of a greenish benefactor with an aquiline nose and a crusty forehead. The grass gleamed in the wash of warm air, tickling shades of light and green. A young student, a girl, sat cross-legged on the hill side, a book nestled comfortably in her lap, her face turned up radiantly to bask in the sun’s shine. My thoughts paused for a moment as I tried to imagine what words lay in such intimate proximity to the girl’s heart, and smiled as I caught a glimpse and with an expert’s eye recognized the short lines of verse. Nipples erected ever so slightly behind her thin shirt, and I sauntered past, wishing I were younger or bolder or somehow knowing.

Lord Malinov, Erotic Romances

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About Lord Malinov

Lord Malinov, literary author, bon vivant, rogue romantic poet
This entry was posted in books, fiction, literature, novels, quotes, reading, short stories, writing. Bookmark the permalink.

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