In The Witching Hour...
 
My beloved,

In the witching hour,
Somewhere between dreams and realities
I become aware of your presence,
A delectable memory
That seduces the senses…
An undeniable
Sweetness of honey…
The warm fragrance
Of narcissus
In a kiss
Which ignites
My flesh…

I burn,
Flame rising
With fierce desire
Evoked by the fire
Of your spell,
Woven with the tongue
Of ancient, magical
Incantations
Which leave me
Gasping for air
Unable to fill
My lungs,
On the unsteady
Edge of satisfaction…

Oh! Sweet the agony!

A hush…

Nothing else matters
Everything
Is focused
On that one
Exquisite
Moment…

Then,
Comes
The rush!

Somewhere, between dreams and realities
I float as and within the nimbus
Of a delectable memory,
Within a kiss
Of warm honey
And fragrant narcissus.

I am,
As always,
Yours.

© ewrichardson 2008

Posted for the Love Letter Challenge

By E.W. Richardson

© 2008 E.W. Richardson (All rights reserved)

 

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This Poem is part of a Challenge: - Love Letters (challenge has been closed)


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