In the complex molecules of our brain cells

All this ado about the anatomy and structure

There is something unseen

Something that scientist can’t measure

It lies within the piece of literature we read

It breathes through the beauty of the Amazons we visit

It doesn’t have a name

It is the dream that I secretly dream

Silently and alone

At night when it’s deadly quiet

When the shooting stars sparks and falls

A dream to become

An Artist
A Writer
A Traveller
A Journalist
A Dreamer

Sharing stolen lust filled kisses covered by the darkness  of the night.

His teasing whispers caressing my neck underneath the brilliant star-lite.


Enticing the fire raging inside him with the cunning look within my  eyes.

A heated passion unable to restrained but alas must remain in disguise.


The anticipation of each rendezvous is more intense than the one before.

Giving in to our hearts desires even if for just a second more.

The need for our bodies to feel as one is much too hard to fight.

This secret love full of intoxicating emotions is hidden in plain sight.

In the games we play our imaginations are allowed run wild and free.

Refreshened by love and new passion are why husband and wife we will always be.