A wistful smile upon her face,
Belies the look I need to trace;
For love needs not cruel rejection,
Instead it longs for sweet perfection.
Reaching out to touch tomorrow,
Leaving all that causes sorrow;
Looking forward with such yearning,
I find joy at your returning.
Let me taste your scent once more,
Bring back the dream we had before;
Have no fear and fear no scorn.
For buds of love will soon be born.
On your cheek the morning blush,
On your brow a fevered flush;
Like berries sitting in the cream,
You light my soul and fill my dream.
Let me quench your thirsty lips,
And taste the juice of honeyed drips;
To caress the languid eyes that sleep,
And join with mine that need to weep.
I need reach out to touch a star,
To know for sure just where you are;
For body language is understood,
Giving and forgiving all it should.
When fingers knit a lovers knot,
And find a stitch that they forgot;
Then all things that transpire,
Will feed the flame that lights the fire.
Copyright © elizabeth wesley | Year Posted 2011
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