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Poem

The swirling fan lazily lopes to its own rhythm
As the soft Spring rain taps its gentle melody on glass
Your warm body pressed tightly to mine
Your embrace comforts me, even as you sleep
The passions of night still linger in the air
Electric, emphatic
Real enough to touch

My thoughts have power
They stir you from the night's grasp
Our bodies again entwine, entangle
Night's passions revisited
Love and lust restated
From our slumbers we explode as thunder

Touching, holding
Caressing, holding
Feeling, holding
Loving, holding

The erotic joining of two souls as one
The symphony of intimacy rises
Peaks in a crescendo of waves of bliss

Collapsing, exhausted, breathless
Two bodies reduced to one heap of humanity
By Night's Passions.

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