Thursday, June 19, 2014

Symphony Succulent

If not for love we lay, unto our hearts we sway.

Away and bound the only sound, lovers do play.

Hands together, fingers tight, bodies make flames light.

The passion burns, yearns as hunger unending pain.

Not to kiss or void of touch emptiness remains.

Sweet as a Coo, singing amor, clothes upon floor.

Heat like candle light, shadow play frolicking on door.

Portal as gate, the merry we make, heavens fate.

Lips to lips, finger tips to hips, whip your hair round.

Sounds of musical fixtures, throws of one mixture.

Symphony Succulent, rapture becomes laughter.

More games played bare-sweet, upon bodies down to feet.

Back unto neck, and waist, unto chest kissing heart.

We all know how love ends, always ready to start.

Dew Revere

A gift of love; amor does find the heart inside.

The lift of dove; to soar thus mind sifts above time.

Sadness becomes a past blur, dressed up coy demure.

Idleness benumbs a past blur, the moment not taken dumb's.

Feeling a fancy, feet to dancing and we grin.

Hold to romancing, sweet a fading and we spin.

Of the bed our joy was wed in passion a new.

Red of cheek and lips a blaze, eyes deep color of blue.

Beyond intention, blissful mention ascension.

We rise and fall, our time a simple call to home.

Among the airy lightness, two shells brightly shine.

Along with very slightness, two bells marry true.

A song remember December, a gift of you.

Twas night sharing, daring, holding, morning love dew.