Come To Me

Sweet sounds of summer slow subside as poets wandering words remove similes, soliloquies, all finally laid aside words our truest feelings cannot prove. Come to me. Lay your gentle heart to rest. Come to me. Lie by me undressed. I will touch the stillness of your soul, become made whole. When last line is written and noble heart does quicken passions’ crushing fire will consume. Lay with trembling hands entwined, released inside our every room, become a light aligned return to womb.