The Truest Caress
The hand that caresses the face of love,
Softly lingers, a pause upon the skin.
A smile offers gentle thoughts to dream of,
As we cross the primordial again.
In reverence, eyes inquire in silence,
To connect muted souls without shared word.
A world time has no attached compliance,
And only rhythmic beats of hearts are heard.
This feathered touch with its smooth trailing trace.
A tender tether of love's interlude,
As quiet moments measure love's embrace.
This realm caressed, this solemn solitude.
To brush the face of your love and express
This sanctuary where lovers confess
Copyright © Frederic Parker | Year Posted 2016
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