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Angel’s Mighty Yearn
Winter’s breeze beneath
the morning sun
where its cool whisper
melts the frost
how time is loosed
with memories spun
and their sweet
seduction is not lost
dreams borne upon
silken angel’s wings
I will write my verse
with fingertips
delicately traced over
your soul that sings
swaying to the rhythm
of your disrobed hips
from sunlit peaks down
into fertile plains
breaths stop to linger
and slowly dance
moisture begins to pool
from summer rains
the scented warmth
holds me in a trance
a delicate flower with
its pink petaled folds
beckons sweet attention
to its perfect form
poised a breath away
from the beauty it holds
it waits patiently for
the coming storm
how it trembles at the
first tentative brush
the serenity melts
into a raging stream
your soul liquifies
as it starts to gush
and I push even
deeper into the dream
my mouth worships
at your secret place
and my motion writes
the songs of desire
these eyes trace curves
of elegant grace
as I work to quench
your fire
the morning sun
where its cool whisper
melts the frost
how time is loosed
with memories spun
and their sweet
seduction is not lost
dreams borne upon
silken angel’s wings
I will write my verse
with fingertips
delicately traced over
your soul that sings
swaying to the rhythm
of your disrobed hips
from sunlit peaks down
into fertile plains
breaths stop to linger
and slowly dance
moisture begins to pool
from summer rains
the scented warmth
holds me in a trance
a delicate flower with
its pink petaled folds
beckons sweet attention
to its perfect form
poised a breath away
from the beauty it holds
it waits patiently for
the coming storm
how it trembles at the
first tentative brush
the serenity melts
into a raging stream
your soul liquifies
as it starts to gush
and I push even
deeper into the dream
my mouth worships
at your secret place
and my motion writes
the songs of desire
these eyes trace curves
of elegant grace
as I work to quench
your fire
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