Hurricane Love

HURRICANE LOVE Your world of illusion is not of my choosing, but here we are stuck in a hurricane's eye. The sea is so pleasing but I know you're teasing, and out there the storm is a different high. I feel your surrounding as you stop to feed, consuming my soul in your greed; I'd follow your teardrops to get where they lead, your love is the ending I need. If I'm not mistaking this migrane is making me think that this hurricane might lose it's eye; your love is a blessing, I guess that's confessing I need you to show how all hurricanes die. I'd walk through the valley of death in your eyes for more of your little white lies. I'd soar through the heavens with love if it flies, to stay in your beautiful eyes. And here in the eye of your hurricane love I find all I've ever dreamed of. © RON wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet