| THE SONG OF MAN |
| You have filled my heart, With love, Not love which seeps from sleeping eyes, But love that creates a riot in the soul, That sounds out resonace, As though it were coated in the depths, Of a thousand trumpets, The light of a million stars, Hath no twinkle, Without the heavens of your eyes, The gateway of your portentous soul, Your finger tips are as temperate ice, Against the heat of my desire, Painting the canvass of my skin, Idigo and crimson trails, Of traces, Shiver sent to my marrow, For you alone, I breathe, Star light dreams, And moonlight dances, To the contours of our entwinded bodies, Shadowed only by the illume of your face, My lover, My wonderous souls song, The one who makes all seem pale, In the presence of his laughter, Rose petal surprise of tongue, Heated embrace that shall ignite time, Fires that burn with such fierce rage, That non can quench the depths, Without the cooling waters, Of your mouth, Hand upon my bossom, Lips against lip, Soul against soul, You have brought me to the meadow, And placed me in the midst of the flowers, Your love radiates the sweet scent of roses, And lily of the valley, Yet, none can compare to the sweet taste of your kisses, My lover , I am indebt to your grace, And worship your sheer essence, And as the twill greets the day, We lay , Hand and hand, And the sounding of your beating heart, Chases all fear away, And I know, That I am safe, In the caves of your arms, Sheltered from the sting of memory, Of the man that lied, That false prophet of love, For you are heaven sent, And I need you |