HER
Author: Unknown
Gentle as a feather, is the touch of her hand. Slowly ever so gently, she touches my skin. My body quivers with antisipation.
Deep as an ocean is the look of her eyes. Blue, ever so blue. Bluer that the sky. When she looks at me there is nothing that my soul can hide, passion.
Softer than rose petals are her lips. Pressed, wet, ever so wanting. Tender, sweeter than wine. So inviting when they touch mine.
Sleek, oh..such soft skin. Graceful, graceful as the wind. Warm, warmer than the morning sun. Passion, hotter than a fire on a cold winter morn.
A wanting of desire, unable to free myself. Comsumed from within my heart. Never to be free, until I have her. A want that cannot be quenched. I call her romance, I call her desire.
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Posted: Jan 2011
About this poem:
I wrote this years ago. When I lost my first love. I was about 24 then. I started writing in order to get my feelings out. I've always believed women are one (Jesus being number one)of the greatest gifts God gave a man. Without them we would be hard and uncaring. It was one of my first poems. Love is more than words.
Comments (3)
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a poem with passion and full of romance,,splendid write sir,,very nice and thanks for sharing