He spoke, he looked, he listened, and replied.
But I did not know my true feeling, until he did the touch.
A simple thing, that many would think as not being much.
And when he reached to place his hand in mind, my heart began to glide.
What is this sense of touch that bleeds the heart of pressure.
And gives release and joy and happiness to the heart and mind.
My body does tingle with such pleasure,
To think he is interested in a woman of my kind.
I am not rich, or beautiful, I do not have the poise.
And yet when he took my hand.
It settled all the searching noise.
My mind calmed down, and for a time it employed
The answer was so complete, for me he was the perfect man.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jul 2012
About this poem:Going wild with poetry that night... due to creating things with pictures.. this was a man and a woman that were sitting and just touching... each other's hands... so sensual....