Come, With The Throes Of Your Love Poem by Mark. A Heathcote

Come, my damselfly nymph, with a coupling dance.
Come to my bed of reeds. I'll do the romance.
Come on tiptoes: heart pressed—heart to heart.
Come, my flightiest one, depart in the morning.

Come in waves that crush all worrying cares.
Come down and wing your way down heaven's backstairs.
Come like a spider to 'web my soul's flight'.
Come, my demon, with kisses hot to ignite.

Come, with the throes of your love, to declare
Come shimmering tonight, my love, midair.