Your fingertips lightly brush my hand,
I smell the sweet warmth of your skin.
Your eyelashes whisper against my cheek,
Your breath hot on my neck.
Your arms fold me to you,
I feel your strength overwhelm me.
Your love floods through my veins,
Your energy infuses my body.
Your touch is electifying,
I feel the intensity of your emotion.
Your fingers entwine with mine,
Your eyes read my mind.
4 comments:
Comment from Ruth:
This is really, really good. (Of course, my version has a final stanza:
And then Isabel awakes next door And screams the whole place down,
'It's your turn', I say; 'No it's your's', he replies
I exit with a frown!
Yeah, we have varius versions of that, depending on which child wants to get in on the act!
You may find as your children get older, you get even closer calls...
.. mmmm, yes. At least she's penned in by the cot at the moment! Michael's potentially dangerous. No close calls yet but I've already figured out what I'd say:
'Hi Mikey. Mummy and daddy are just playing at wrestling.....'
Giggle.
Try that one when nearly caught by one's nine year old so... no, wait a minute, that would involve too much information!
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