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Wouldst kiss me, my lady? Bless these lips with thine? Raise me to the heights of ecstasy, To know again that Love is mine?
Touch my face with thy hallowed hand, Stroke me with thy satin skin, Rousing from slumber love's sweet demand, Reaching for the soul within.
Thy hostage is my heart, Forever bound to thee, This binding that cannot part And makes you ever a part of me.
For true love is a sharing without end That mere separation cannot dim The feeling that doth transcend Even the beauty of the Seraphim.
Karl Stuart Kline
| Submitted Date |
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Thursday, November 16, 2006 |
| Submitted Date |
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Saturday, November 20, 2010 |
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