by
Patricia Nichols
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Making love to you is like kissing the bloom of summers sweet rose, Sweet like the freshness of the way a summer breeze blows, Your fragrant petals upward turned shimmer in natural dew, I am intoxicated in sweet wet scent that flows gently from you, Your pale pink voice forever etched in sounds of ecstacy, Yearning and aching provokes such sweet kisses of poetry, Until the sweet and silky dew inside rises and overflows, I am making love to the bloom of summers most beautiful rose. |
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My love- Let me quench my thirst in the sound of your passion, Let me fill my starvation with a caress of your sweet hands, I can hear you with my touch, Taste your melody with my tongue, I cam smell the beauty of your grace, Feel the sweet of your ecstacy, And I want you with all of these facets of me, And all these facets of you, My love- Only let me love you with every bit of me. |
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Upon quivering wings of celestial with my soul dreameth of thee, The ecstacies above thy lips consume every space inside of me, But my words are merely the music of this humble dream, Sparking bright the fire that fills my soul with its sweet steam. |
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I have flown into the flame of passion- Embraced the deadly heat, Loving so wild and unrestrained- Impossible to keep discreet, Her moaning tore the space between the earth and the moon, Though it be soft like the sun fading into afternoon, And it seems I cannot get enough of the sweet passion unrestrained, Mixing love with pleasure and firey yearning- No longer kept contained. |
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Your touch is softer, more beautiful, Than a bed of roses, With petals so intoxicating I am drunk with yearning, Lingering in my thoughts like morning dew caressing fragile skin, You wrap me in the sensation of utter beauty, Simply with the memory of your touch. |
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