Michael Lanahan

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~ Passionately Hers. ~

Passionately Hers. 444.

Time was we were divorced of Earth, whenst passions did dictate,
Where fantasies are given birth, realities negate,
When she portrays sensual delight, as with her beau she toys,
Makes use those eyes as well she might, all subtleties employs,

As fingers trace her porcelain face, her swanlike throat is teased,
She’s clearly shaken by liberties taken as she succumbs with ease,
The air hangs heavy with perfume as with each breath she sighs,
Love’s fire her sweet form illumes, flames dancing in her eyes,

Caressing hands explore each curve she trembles at his touch,
As fingers feel her every nerve, diminishing thus much,
She murmurs low in passions tongue that only lovers know,
This must be heaven she’s among whence only angels go,

Slowly the fire burns ever higher until she screams aloud,
In ecstasy, un-knowingly, she’s on libido’s cloud,
Two forms together melt, as flaming love is forged,
And every sinew felt, at Eros table gorged,

Gasping breaths writhing forms, locked embraces, bodies warmed,
Tangles mass of limbs asunder as her whole she now surrenders,
In euphorian delight, making love throughout this night,
Finally quite satiated of his love for which she’s waited,

Closing eyes her face is kissed as in thanks for perfect bliss,
Still caressed until asleep then in slumber his watch keeps,
She his destiny shall be, valued for eternity,
Never doubting for a day they will always feel this way.

Michael Lanahan. ©. … mjl.

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