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The Storm Was Fast Approaching
From the moment his eyes found mine,
I felt him wrapping me in a silk cocoon...
held closely within the warmth of his arms.
I was aware of the threads he was weaving
when our lips met in a lover's dance...
the long sweeping steps of a waltz
the kind that sensually begets romance.
My thoughts crashed like waves rushing ashore.
I wanted more of tasting his tongue than mere sips,
relishing it like fine wine. One glass would not be
enough as he thrust deeper in rhythmic motion.
I was writing a romantic Sonnet in my head.
Sweet, were the lines in my mind
flowing like the juices of sensual embraces,
while swallowing the moans of each other's passion.
My fingers were torn between scribbling notes
and devoting them to fondling the hair at his nape.
There was no escaping the web he'd spun.
It held me, not as a prisoner but a willing captive,
waiting and wanting to be savored and devoured.
I let go of my pen and gave up trying to write.
I was breathless, no longer able to think of rhyme,
emotions climbing to reach the greatest height.
Thunder was roaring in every beat of my heart.
I closed my eyes when the first lightning strike
warned me... the storm was fast approaching.
Copyright ©
Lin Lane
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