In middle age, we are often tired
When the sun sets on the horizon.
Thoughts of you course through my mind
By day,
Making toils easier,
Reducing my stress,
Making me feel young again.

Shallow breathing,
Mild perspiration on my brow,
A heart gallops,
Sometimes unpredictably,
As I undress you in my thoughts.

Yes, I make love to you by day
In all that I do.
It creates a tenderness in my soul
That is felt by others.
While we are separated by distance,
To you I am joined by love.

I cannot wait for the day to end,
And to have the chance to act
On thoughts,
Guiding my way through the day.

Soft skin,
And flesh rising to the challenge,
A million cells
Acting on their own
In coordination,
To bring you the pleasure,
That you so richly deserve.

My tongue, softly caressing your neck,
And breasts,
And finding warmth below,
As I feel your hips rising
To meet my lips.
I know where your desire lies,
Deep within,
And I will take you there.

I hear your voice rising
As you crest the cascading waves.
I hear your voice pleading
For me deep within.
I am yours and you are mine.

In middle-aged love,
There is patience,
And understanding,
And a passion,
That is not understood by youth.

If our labors have made us tired
By day,
We will content ourselves
With companionship
By night.
And our love is no less strong.

But beware, when the morning comes,
And we have been revitalized by rest,
For then,
My tongue will softly caress your neck,
And breasts,
And will find the warmth below.
And together,
We will travel through the years.