My Lips like Flaming Fire, are in search of Quenching Kisses. I'm lost in your Midnight Love, experiencing Romantic Blisses. My Passions are full of Feelings, as I look into your Eyes. U settle into My Arms, waiting for another Sunrise. Your scent lingers in My Senses, turning the fire On. Tempting Me for another Session, before My flame is dead and Gone. I have a good taste for Romance, therefore I crave for U. Darling.... U are the only Woman, turning My Dark Nights into Blue.
Lonely days turn into Lonely nights. The Lonely heart: the casualty of one too many fights. About commitment, parenting. Money. Responsibility. But not all hope is lost, Lonely heart! You've fought before. You've lost before. And as long as you keep fighting, someday you will see Sweet victory.
This feel of sad without any reason This tiredness without any work Burning eyes without any tear Hurting heart without any incident Why?why is it all happening?? Is it ok to be like this for this night? Am sure I gonna wakeup with a charismatic smile tomorrow morning Then why is this night seems like a long achy summer day??
Evenings a lovable sensitive thang. Opting to pass usual good morning greetings as some sang. Skipping morning bits.. rushing into the afternoon. She welcomed the mid day Knowing with it a smile was on the way. She allowed early evening to greet letting things bloom. Working away late evenings as sleepy eyes rang. Conversations a quick cute head nodding overhang. Good nights are like lullabies of verbal hugs sangs. Wasted evenings are snatching from beneath feet taken for granted rugs. All to start another night in shimmering thoughtful plights. Tugging away ribbons in flights. Meaningful minds quietly dreamin. As others may be secretly scheming. Attentions paid to faded good morning hello's. With hollow tones from yesterdays grading zero's. Wash rinse and repeating.. Behaviors seems to be overwhelming. Creativity craves new feelings. Rare moments seems to be fleeting. Evenings are acceptable, noondays are welcoming, as are the rushing of mornings. selinasharday rosePoet s.a.m 2019-5-1