Dreams Of Paradise Poem by Eva Mae Witt

Paradise is where you make it
As when, where and why we're
both running barefoot
through a scented sun spring

While jasmine flows in a thin breeze
while your fingers lazily
dances onto my hot skin
as we're lying content on

the hottest sands like an
exotic island so far from here
while we whisper sweet words
of endearments to each other
for we belong in each other, s
arms so tenderly; lying in
our dreams of Paradise.