Everlasting Love
I thirst for your sweet mystery,
so drunk on love am I,
my mouth is parched, 'til you bestow
cool balm, can I deny
the boon that comes from your sweet lips,
a taste of heaven's joy,
so sweetly doth your soul impart,
as I my skill employ
to succor and to satisfy
a gift so freely given;
your fragrance full delights my sense,
my heart is sorely riven.
Your scent is heady, nay divine,
my soul can scarce withstand
the beauty of your simple grace,
the softness of your hand.
Copyright © Keith Bickerstaffe | Year Posted 2016
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