I want to look into your eyes and see smiles therein that lie.

I want to touch your hand and touching, the quivering in your soul

tangles into me.

Would that I could slip into the empty seat beside you in a shadowy theatre,

the fragrance of your skin intoxicating me.

To rove a deserted white-sand shoreline,

To hear your laughter brightening the already impossibly brilliant waters,

while arching dolphins paint the horizon,

these memories I desire.

If I could gather you in my arms, I’d know the swell of your breasts against mine.

If I could linger upon your lips to kiss, surely never could I stop.

I long to gaze upon a star and present you with the wish,

simply to glimpse the wonder grazing your unexpecting heart.

I long to pick a white rose to give you in the moonlight,

in your hand merely to see it glistening.

To look on you, sleeping, in morning’s silence supernal,

would cause me to weep a single tear of enchantment.

To savour the liquid fieriness of the passions I rouse in you

would probably make me drunk.

And neither the ocean’s song-haunted calm,

nor the salt sea’s misted hush

shall dispel the swelling storm you shape.


nmhill © november 2001paganspoet@yahoo.com

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