His Touch Poem by Sally Walker

Everything he touches turns to gold.
No he's not King Midas,
He's more than that.
For everything he's given left no consequences.
Oh his form of gold is love.
Which soars strong as a dove.
One touch has you falling.
So you start mauling,
At the idea of you two becoming one.
Becoming an item.
But you're not good enough,
No one is.
So you'll try your hardest because…
That touch is always:
Leaving you in awe.
Providing love,
And comfort,
In a way you have never felt before.
No one has.
He's one of a kind.
The boy of everyone's dreams.
With the touch of an angel.
No, that's not good enough.
Rather the touch only meant for the god of our universe.
His touch is everything anyone will ever need and more.