Mar 2020
Music of our souls, your fingers through my hair,
your skin so fair. Kiss me as tenderness flows
through my being, seeing you lying there on
silk sheets. We meet every night, sometimes
late afternoons. Sighs, moans resound through
crepuscular skies, fresh with lust and loving.
Kiss me again, my fingers through your hair,
I smell your sweetness, the fragrance of a
thousand flowers that shower with petals of
heaven's perfume. Melodies of the heart, syn-
copated love songs. Love comes of souls and
hearts.
Copyrighted 2020 Tod Howard Hawks
your skin so fair. Kiss me as tenderness flows
through my being, seeing you lying there on
silk sheets. We meet every night, sometimes
late afternoons. Sighs, moans resound through
crepuscular skies, fresh with lust and loving.
Kiss me again, my fingers through your hair,
I smell your sweetness, the fragrance of a
thousand flowers that shower with petals of
heaven's perfume. Melodies of the heart, syn-
copated love songs. Love comes of souls and
hearts.
Copyrighted 2020 Tod Howard Hawks
A graduate of Andover and Columbia College, Columbia University, Tod Howard Hawks has been a poet and human-rights advocate for his entire life. He recently finished his novel, A CHILD FOR AMARANTH.
