Karl Stuart Kline (2/16/50 / Las Vegas, Nevada - When there was only one saloon in town!)
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.
Comments about this poem ((1.1) Truly by Karl Stuart Kline )
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