My Flower Love
MY FLOWER LOVE
Hid in the deepest dark and soul of me,
where no one ever thought could be a thing,
a flower grows; called love; and and longs to be
all of your deepest dreams a night could bring.
And if this night does whisper your desire
through mine own heart, and through my fingertips,
my flower love shall burst into a fire
as sur'ly as the meeting of our lips.
To lay you down; to enter love so deep
into the very heart of you I go
then damp with passion, in our time for sleep
we dream the dream again so few could know.
And as the dawn lights through my window pain,
my flower love--I'll love you once again.
© ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet
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