He Walked Like A Whisper Poem by Linda Marie Van Tassell

He walked like a whisper,
swept over my bare skin,
and stole silently into my heart.

A breathless flame flickered,
and a shaft of light stroked the evening
as amber swirled in Chardonnay.

Across the distance, I shed my unease,
turned the frown of fear into a smile
and walked towards my destiny.

The heat of the moment was tangible,
a sainted scripture written, inscribed
upon the walls in shadowed silhouette.

His eyes reached out to touch me
and found life in the palm of his hands
as his soft tongue said hello.

I wanted to kiss the poetry of his lips
and wrap myself in his warm words,
make a rhyme of the rhythm in my heart.

Time stood still, tangled in the dark night
of his hair; tinctured with the twilight shimmer
of a moon that listened for his breath.

My hands trembled like butterflies,
the petals of my heart unfolding,
attracted to the light glistening in his eyes.

Slowly, my eyes traced the edges of his face
and sketched him on the pages of my mind,
where love lingers, listening to the silence.

A stitch of time knit us together,
stretched us over the curve of night,
and blanketed the rest of the world.

He pulled me to him and possessed me,
tossed pleasure's pillows to the floor,
and lay me down on a bed of roses.

His whispers fell along my hair,
fluttered on my shoulders,
and drifted down the river of my spine.

Twilight tumbled on his tongue
as he slipped his tender fingers between
the pages of the passion of our affair.

Like a sun to my senses, he warmed me,
smoldered me with the smoke of his eyes
and burned into being the birth of my fate.

He walked like a whisper,
walked through the dust of my desert,
leaving behind an oasis and a fountain of love.