Desirable Lady
Thine will, my desire, lady so fine,
These days without your touch, are cruel.
These nights without you, I devour wine.
Your quest my desire, within thine rule,
My heart and soul, torn apart and ripped,
In private vigor, I await kiss.
My spirit defiled and ill equipped.
These times are vacant; your touch I miss.
Our sensual flamboyant desire,
Your eagerness, showering pleasure,
As I hold you close, I feel such fire.
Our moments together hold measure.
My ardor is real, yours surely true.
I humbly await one glimpse of you.
Copyright © Cecil Hickman | Year Posted 2010
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