You feel like a cotton glove?
A roaming of which my hands love.
Soft and smooth your skin
Outside and in...
Sweet...
You smell of honey
Being harvest out of play
You become
A different flower
Each and every day
I slowly confess to you
My love...
As I walk gracefully
Upon your maze.
If a cotton...a thorn be found
I lovingly gaze...
Which it is mentally...removed
A pure cotton body
To me you are...
Not a flaw in sight.
I go on with my harvest
Through the night.
Dew... upon the cotton
Sparkles of which are who?
Spun into candy...
I lovingly devour you.
Whisperkwane@gmail.com
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I really like this...good imagery and metaphor...and just a nice fine rhythm...well done...Coach