Passion, romance, love . . . when the lights are low and candles flicker.

The lights are low,
the music’s slow . . .
as you hold me.
Inside a fire’s burning
with a growing yearning.
You lit the wick,
wax runs hot, slick.
My heart is turning.
Can you stay till morning?
It’s not likely
you love deeply.
All you see is a chance
for a short-term romance.

Trembling lips, hot,
quickly we trot . . .
as you lead me.
Fun time or commitment?
Dare I make a comment?
Enveloped with you . . .
have we a chance?
Will passion grow stronger,
if love lingers longer?
Will love fizzle
in a drizzle
of teardrops and heartaches?
Everyone makes mistakes.

The lights are out
but loves wicks’ lit.
Your touch melts me.
We’ve lovers eyes . . . new . . .
yours on me; mine on you.
A dalliance for life
as man and wife . . .
each day a honeymoon.
You love me, make me swoon . . .
forever true
only to you.
Love rebounds, an echo,
and I truly love you so.