PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Your arms reach for me
in the still of this sleepy morning,
and you enter my dream of open fields
and long-stemmed wildflowers.
I run quickly over a southern savanna,
listening to the birds' passionate
language. They seem to
understand, and announce our union,
fluttering in the breeze like untied sashes.

I can feel the pulse in your throat.
The sheets are clean and crisp and cool.
Your asian skin smells a little of
the essence of juniper and blueberry,
your cupped hands touch the lotus.
Lust spreads from your face
like a butterfly finally coming out
of it's cocoon.

The wonders and mysteries of our love
will remain between the sheets,
for love so beautiful needs to
remain naked, unclothed, and pure.
I lay half in wonder, and half in radiance.
It was a morning like this, I think,
that Eden was born.

High up in the aged oak trees,
long-silent birds sing.