Her body t’is my home,
upon white satin i lay.
She stitches me together,
with warmth and loving gay.
Gazing within her eyes,
reflections of forests and trees.
Fair tressles flowing fancy,
a smile that gives such tease.
And kind words she prays,
gentle, in a whisper.
On these lips i wait,
trembling but to kiss her.
May she never cleanse her cheek,
nor sadness upon her breast.
But love until that day,
held in her last caress.
Oct 7, 2011
Oct 7, 2011 at 9:15 PM UTC
Her body t’is my home,
upon white satin i lay.
She stitches me together,
with warmth and loving gay.
Gazing within her eyes,
reflections of forests and trees.
Fair tressles flowing fancy,
a smile that gives such tease.
And kind words she prays,
gentle, in a whisper.
On these lips i wait,
trembling but to kiss her.
May she never cleanse her cheek,
nor sadness upon her breast.
But love until that day,
held in her last caress.