karen

sometimes you can’t remember as if waking from a dream

those cold nights in december that would drive us in-between

the bed and all the blankets and a comforter as well

where through the night a warm respite will help you rest a spell

but then the night light’s gentle light would be upon your face

where needing then a new respite would conquer and replace

my fingers fashioned in a touch would mimic the soft light

i’d whisper more into your ear than simply a “goodnight”

but harmony of poetry with beauty as its muse

than kiss the fullness of your lips igniting every fuse

and when the flames had run their course and burned the bedroom down

i’d occupy right by your side and let my fingers drown

in pools of beauty on your face reflecting paradise

and all the years have not erased or made me once think twice

about the need inside of me to linger next to you

to sing the beauty of your face is all i want to do

 

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