Linda Marie Van Tassell
Linda Marie Van Tassell Poems
The morning is moist with ocean spray.
The islands, they twist around the bay;
and across them all, my eyes have scanned -
the rocky cliffs and the buttes of sand.
I almost think it an Irish isle.
Such beauty to make the heart beguile.
Sunrise stain on a listless ocean
serves to add to the magic potion.
A boat is docked alongside the pier.
A woman and man are standing near.
He is setting sail to ports unseen
upon the gilded Emerald Queen.
Standing on tip-toes to give a kiss,
she cries while pretending unfelt bliss.
Others have perished ...
I long to wear you like a softly-scented cologne,
to smell your essence around me when I'm all alone,
to inhale you with each breath from the moment I wake,
to taste you on the wind with every step I take.
I long to wear you like a satin or velvet glove,
to run your hands across my skin, yearning for your love,
feel you play my body like a harpist on his strings,
lightly touching my flesh with the brush of angel wings.