Sensing loving whispers
Which slide into my mind
To conjure soft enticements
Invoking ***** to find,
Finding warm inducements
Temptation calls its own
When locked inside a fantasy
Wherein we sit alone.
Alone in darkened corridors
Where sensual shadows slide
Where, without preamble,
Eroticisms hide.
Where, within a gentle touch,
All light would flush confirmed
Causing demons penned in caverns deep
To writhe in passion earned…
In harmony such symphony
Of gentle, moving song
Would dwindle in the offing down
To whispers, softly gone.

M.
14 November 2014