How often have you sat composing thoughts in which to get lost in?
So morose by your bleak surrounding that you escape into a fantasy?
You are my fantasy!
That dream lover into whose being I am lost
My songs of sorrow seem to be embraced by more than the weeping of a poet’s heart.
At times it appears that even the spirit of Mother Nature feels my pain
And she cries with me in a sun shower to let me know that I don’t have to carry this burden alone,
Again
But at night, when I am bombarded with memories of the smell of your fragrance,
The caress of your hands
The taste of your lips,
That look that appears on your face when I do those things that make your body submit
Girl we are fortunate that Mother Nature doesn't share my burden then.
If she did the tears from her eyes would consume the earth
Consume women,
Consume men.
And the heat of her fires would in turn set it aflame
When she witnessed the passion of our love making
The pleasure
The pain

Even through our separation, I taste you
Intensely!
And since this separation I've found I missed you
Immensely!