The wind south bound does beckon me
with hunger for the fantasy
your satin sash ~ my satin gown
the satin sheets to be turned down.
I want to make you dance;
to feel your hips swing low,
all your grace and
power to know
in the midnight hour.
I want to breathe you
like the beat of the music
to saturate you from head to toe
with midnight lover' s fragrance
I want to make you dance.
There's lying rumpled on the floor
an invitation for yet more
such hunger for the fantasy
the wind south bound does beckon me
By Barbara Gilmer
© 2008 Barbara Gilmer
(All rights reserved)