Remembering
Remembering
When in line I was
Lost as to why
Who should I see
But she looking at me.
Her eyes were green
Her face divine
Her hair was soft
But her lips were mine
What was said
Did not matter
For where we were
We were there together!
To bring the scent of ambush
Crimson and rose
Sweet poison intoxicating was she
But none of this could compete
With the way she would taste
When at last our lips would meet!
Copyright © Rick Magee | Year Posted 2009
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