Tell me ... would you hold her close Embrace her chin with your first caress
Run your fingers to her throat
Then tell me would you pull her
Closer to your chest
Would you caress her bare shoulders
Put all passions to this test
Then tell me would you waltz her
Carefully to your bed
Lay your hand to her small back
Palm her lovely silken head
Then take her eyes in carefully
Engulf her winsome moves
Make a bed for all night loving
Cut a fevered mattress groove
Then tell when can I be
Just where she is now
And why am I here waiting
With my hand above me brow
Oh love of shadows midnight
Oh man of no real name
Tell me why I still wait
When I'm tired but all the same
Sweet man of night dream's mystery
Why make me wait the more
Come handsome man of midnight's dream,
These passions beg for more
Whomever you are ...Destiny
Whenever my smile comes
The real in dreams of testimony
Will make me come undone.
Your romantic heart is one that covers every corner of the soul:
The wonderment, the passion, the submission of self AND you also bring the balance to those endearments with the realisations of the forlorn and unrequited longings held so deeply for the lover of our souls dreams.
Reviewed by Jerry Bolton (Reader)
Reviewed on May 8, 2006
"Cut a fevered mattress groove" Oh, boy! Without a doubt the best poem of desire projected to a nameless lover I have ever read. Tremendous.
A search for the ghost of a chorus girl chorine haunting a costume designer’s Manhattan apartment leads to an encounter with an eccentric, mischievous witch with the ability to send folks back through time…in this case, the 1919 Ziegfeld Follies.
In this heartfelt romantic memoir, Harry and Elizabeth share their passions and feelings about the poignant events that brought them back together after being divorced and estranged for almost twenty years. Filled with emotion, suspense, and humor --
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Sublime, perfect longing in this excellent write...well done!
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.
Well done Susan!!
Love Tinka
The wonderment, the passion, the submission of self AND you also bring the balance to those endearments with the realisations of the forlorn and unrequited longings held so deeply for the lover of our souls dreams.
A fever pitched and passionate offering....
Cometh the hour, cometh the man !
Peter
Hugs.
Fee
(((HUGS))) and much love, your friend in tx., karen lynn. :D
~~martin~~