Monday, February 2, 2015

The Poem in Her

Plush, the whisper of your wanting
Blush, the murmur of her sighs
Hush, though breath-soft bells are flaunting
Night-farewells on hello-skies

Slow the waves of want and worry,
Blow that beacon from the east
Oh my darling, do not hurry
Morning is a hungry beast

Break the bars of law and order
Wake the world within her touch
Make the most of love before her
Sense of Time becomes too much
Set the curtained dark a-quiver
Forget everything but Her
Let the morning rush, a river
Running wild where hours blur

Spill within her quill an ocean
Will to word, wanton whisper
Fill her fingers with emotion
Unleash the poem in Her

© Janet Martin

another Sounds of Love Submission

It's February. Time for love and the off-spring thereof;-))


Thank you for your visit to this porch. I'd love to hear if or how this post/poem touched you!