Closeness
Your skin glows like the passion fruit, blossoms pretty as the rose in the purest hope of spring.
My yearning heart rises to your voice and leaps like a cat at the whisper of your name,
The evening ascends in on a great lark wing.
In the hushed, I listen for the last of the spring.
I wait in the crystal moonlight for you so that we may as one, search for the spirit of love
Copyright © Alistair Twigg | Year Posted 2016
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