In candlelit darkness,
I sit listening to sweet ethereal songs
Of love lorn woman.
In the semi-stillness, I wonder,
Shall I again look into the eyes of woman,
Woman so beautiful she'd seem to be
Beauty so radiant the physical is second only
To that which shines from within.
Eyes that shine of love, tenderness, passion,
Of gentleness and sensuality
That makes the strongest man . . . melt.
Forget not her hair.
Hair so soft you'd wonder, is she angel or newborn child?
Her lips so sweet you hate to spoil the moment with a kiss . . .
But not to taste, to smell perfection, is pure pain.
To touch and be touched by her is pure pleasure . . . passion.
Will fate glance kindly upon me once again
Or shall I continue to sit, alone in the dark?
Dreaming of what once was, and what can be, once again.