Remembrance

I once met a lady so young and gentle; her charm was that of a princess. From the first moment I saw her I was enchanted by her beauty, enslaved by her charm, my body trembles as my legs weaken by the remembrance of her eyes.
Her eyes held magic like none other I’ve ever seen, by just one glance she could bring the best of worriers to their knees, and with a few soft spoken words from lips so moist and warm, my heart, my body wanted nothing more than to please her.
For me her touch held the greatest magic. She made me feel that I could move mountains. With her I experienced emotions I thought were long dead, and some I never knew ever existed.
So soft was her touch, yet behind her gentle touch laid the power and passion so great in strength, I was overwhelmed, consumed with greed of wanting more.
She had a way about her that put poetry and song into my heart. When we danced she moved with the grace of a ballerina.
Never have I met another like her, nor do I care to, for I fear my heart could never let go of its first true love.