You are the moon's reflection,
As the wind whispers your name
And the maddening spell of love,
Overtakes the moment.
The sweet delicate smell of lilac
Mingles with your perfume,
As my senses take leave,
And I am hopelessly yours.
You do not have to touch me
For me to feel your love-
Electrifying as a lighting bolt,
That leaves me awestruck.
Your words are angel whispers
That cradles my heart,
While writing every word said,
In the language of love.
And when you touch me
The world explodes-
With the rapture of two souls,
That found the light in the darkness.
The gentleness of your kiss,
With so much passion
That I become putty,
That you mold to your pleasure.
While the moon smiles
And the firefly’s dance-
To the music of our love,
That grows sweeter in the night.
You put a damper on your poem in the first line by not making the moon possessive with an apostrophe, but making it plural.
Ron
That cradles my heart!!
Wow, just wow gloriously stunning):