Calling Poem by clay perry

calling
by clay4872©


Twas wonderful you who spoke to me in
dream so real, assauging voice caressed
my soul, you bade me to come to you on
stead pure. My satin shirt billowed in
morns crisp breeze.
Fair nightingale sings trill sweet song, her mate
swoons in highest bows of sycamore tree.
Lavender sky breaks over glade, dew
kissed rose petals awash in morns first
light.
My senses perked by intuitions might,
my journeys closed I've arrived to your
side. Succulent your lips I taste,
finest silk seems coarser still than your
luscious locks cascading over your
shoulder.
Supple, ample my beloveds breast, a
tear escapes upon my cheek, joy let
loose for you to see, lye with me in
poppies row, we give freely of ourselves
tenderly, never should I wander way
lest angels call my name.