He

He owns the night,

my thoughts by day

 belong to him in their disarray.

I sense his presence

his warm strong hands

as he caresses me gently

and over me stands.

 

Baring our souls

touching skin upon skin,

nothing I know of compares to him,

his smooth finger tips

gently tracing my lips,

our bodies entwine

making love divine .

painting
 by
Hamish Blakely

Reviews

[Misery]

Romance that never fades from age to age, yet is more treasured as time passes.
Your dear gift in action, sweet Dara. Thank you.

[Dara]

It is so good to see you have visited my page once again. I am afraid I am a hopeless romantic and only recently discovered this when I started writing poetry :-)