By Ray Heywood |
Submitted by wordley
Date: 2002 Feb 07
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She dwells within me, somwhere my hands cannot reach, and only my senses know she's there,
And each sweet smile and word she murmours is lodged within my heart, that my whole being may share
The joy this wonderous creature brings,at once so vital and fresh,so fills me with elation
That the very folds of my soul,for years grown sad and grey,undergo recreation;
And she takes me above all things where no one else may go,and her love is waiting,
To soothe my fevered brow,her kisses so softly caressing,all my sadness dissapating.
What may I give to her,she that is all that I am and ever will be, to show my love,
What part of my being is so precious,so unending,worthy enough to prove
That nothing life can offer compares to this sensation, this burning flame within
For her love pours over me like honey from the comb and I am drawn like a Butterfly to begin
Toalight upon her flower and taste such heavenly food, without which I would not survive at all,
But would simply fade and die, my wings folded over me in one last un-ending fall.
I can hear her call, she is closer than before, and I must attend to her care,
She who dwells within me, somewhere my hands cannot reach and only my senses know she's there.