Midnight lace, a whispered grace,
A gentle touch, in a tender space.
Love's soft scent, a sweet perfume,
Chasing shadows, lifting gloom.
Hand in hand, true hearts explore,
Leaving soft prints on love's own shore.
Beneath soft silks, a form so fair,
A secret beauty, beyond compare.
A gentle curve, a hidden gleam,
Like a softly waking, lovely dream.
A quiet joy, for loving eyes,
A promise held, beneath soft skies.
Lingerie is more than what lies beneath the dress;
it is the inner spark, the hidden glamour,
the private radiance that makes a woman
feel exquisite in her own skin.
And how should one care for such intimate grace?
Treat each piece with love, in time and space.
As you would tend a fragile bloom,
Or banish from a heart all gloom.
With gentle hands, a soft embrace,
A quiet reverence, time cannot erase.
So let this beauty brightly shine,
A tender joy, a love divine.
Amen.
Sep 2, 2025
Sep 2, 2025 at 11:28 PM UTC
Midnight lace, a whispered grace,
A gentle touch, in a tender space.
Love's soft scent, a sweet perfume,
Chasing shadows, lifting gloom.
Hand in hand, true hearts explore,
Leaving soft prints on love's own shore.
Beneath soft silks, a form so fair,
A secret beauty, beyond compare.
A gentle curve, a hidden gleam,
Like a softly waking, lovely dream.
A quiet joy, for loving eyes,
A promise held, beneath soft skies.
Lingerie is more than what lies beneath the dress;
it is the inner spark, the hidden glamour,
the private radiance that makes a woman
feel exquisite in her own skin.
And how should one care for such intimate grace?
Treat each piece with love, in time and space.
As you would tend a fragile bloom,
Or banish from a heart all gloom.
With gentle hands, a soft embrace,
A quiet reverence, time cannot erase.
So let this beauty brightly shine,
A tender joy, a love divine.
Amen.
Request permission to use this poem