Passion is luscious, wet and warm,
Admiring the curves of each others form.
Starts all hurried, urgent the fervor,
Grows to epic proportions and even further.
The rhythm is steady, like a metronome’s beat,
We marvel at the feeling, makes us complete.
It’s a flower, song, or meal to sustain us through life.
It tempers our tribulations; everyday strife.
Passion, for love, is sometimes mistaken,
When we find that it’s not, feeling forsaken.
A passion for life is just as rewarding,
Each step of the way our mind is recording.
Memories hold our life’s short passage,
Some go through them, teetering on cliff’s edge.
Some go out with a flash, some a flicker,
With passion for life, it seems to come quicker.
Thank heaven for passion; it’s truly a blessing,
Without it mankind would perish, about that; I’m not guessing.