If you'll be the sea cliff, then
I'll be the rollers--
breaking on your heart, oh!
ardent lover.
If you'll be my snow field, then
I'll be your Spring sun--
hot clouds of steam rising
when we are done.
Then I'll be your fog bank, if
you'll be my wetland--
secret caresses from
velvet-soft hands.
If you'll be my seabird, then
I'll be your night breeze--
lift you in ecstasy
over deep seas.
Then I'll be your night sky, all
swimming in moonlight--
lighting your way to my
heart here tonight.
Jan 27, 2011
Jan 27, 2011 at 7:14 PM UTC
If you'll be the sea cliff, then
I'll be the rollers--
breaking on your heart, oh!
ardent lover.
If you'll be my snow field, then
I'll be your Spring sun--
hot clouds of steam rising
when we are done.
Then I'll be your fog bank, if
you'll be my wetland--
secret caresses from
velvet-soft hands.
If you'll be my seabird, then
I'll be your night breeze--
lift you in ecstasy
over deep seas.
Then I'll be your night sky, all
swimming in moonlight--
lighting your way to my
heart here tonight.
Inspired by ju's "Tide."
Copyright 2011 by Michael S. Simpson. All rights reserved.
Request permission to use this poem