Woman who I love
Your mind is a book of poems,
Your poetry is a romantic window
To my heart.

You whose perfume is rose;
Lavender skin
Of pure naked love.

Your lips I long
To make love to
With my kiss of eclipses,
Of sonnets,
Of Chopin-noctornal
Jazz.

Your curves of sun and moon
I want to caress
With my generous body
As passionate lover.

I feel you.

Your mellifluent tongue
Weaves poetic gaelic songs
In the timbre of ****** voice.

Whose eyes like a forest
Of campanillas
My heart and gaze
Looks deep into;
Waiting for your response.

Your smiles and you're cuteness
Makes me want more.
I smile back.

Woman who I love,
I'm in awe.

©Jack Aylward,
26/1/14