Warm In Your Dew

every morning is drenched in your perfume the city in your presence lowers the volume wrap your hand in mine so your touch can ignite my senses inhale with me nature’s joy pass the white picket fences through the clover fields we’ll run against the fresh breeze we’ll free our restraints and laugh sick to our bellies nestle and anchor me to your own private flight of fancy trip me a flyway of buttermilk sky frothy and creamy cradle me in the soothe of your keep sing me tender to a dove-like sleep