time was a moonbeam
trapped in the silver lace
at your bedroom window

There is magic in a kiss
That tells a woman she is fire
That leaves her feeling weightless

There is enchantment in the touch
That makes a woman glow
That tells her she is desired

There is beauty in the tangles of love
Warm, soft, **** bodies
Stuck together in comfort

Let romance be your art
Your lips your paintbrush
Your fingers your palette

Paint her in love

There is art
In your heart
Painting pictures
When I lay
My head down on your chest

There are songs in your eyes
Singing lullabies
When you hover
Pin me down
With your stare

There is a poem
On the tip
Of your tongue
I taste it
When I kiss you

You are tortured
Stereotyped
My jaded lover
I hear it
When you won't talk

i touched your soul
and scribbled my name on it
love, you’ll never get lost again

I was a child,
and you, an injured swan,
resting by the lake I skipped stones on.

My parents didn't notice when I took you in.
Children don't have much,
but I thought that all I had was enough

To heal you.

So, under the cover of night,
I wrapped my sleeves around your wounds
And you wrapped your wings over mine.

But everyone knows that mere children
Cannot care for a living being
All by themselves -

All by myself.

And my tiny room was nothing
Compared to the skies and lakes
That you loved.

They say children are observant -
at least I saw your sadness,
so I took you

Back

To the lake where we first met
and there I told you
To fly.

I was a child,
and you, a graceful swan,
soaring from the lake I skipped stones on.