Sometimes I love you
when you cross the line
of our room scantily dressed
in heated passion forbearing
in a negligee of warmth.

The moon streams your radiance
into a glowing southern mocha,
as night glistens from your soul,
colors my imagination
reflecting my true st fantasy
that lies within my heart.

You're the song that lingers
on my heart like a weather vane.
Whisper scented breezes
of jasmine cross magnolias
Senses overwhelm Jamaican eyes
into turquise and ruby

 
Green silks glow upon our bed
in emerald sheens like an Irish smile
calling into the threshold of my mind.