In Thrall Poem by Jean Renwick

Oh! How she holds me in thraldom.
Her movement fluid like a panther,
muscles rippling under smooth, bronzed skin.
Watchful as an eagle for every change in need and emotion in her captured one.
And I, ensnared willingly, wonder at her caring.
I never imagined feeling this way about anyone, ever.
So easy now are words like always, forever, eternity.
Love does not even begin to include the depth nor intensity of our connection.

I want her: body, mind…and soul.
I ache for her closeness, hunger for her touch constantly,
I await her kisses like a flower thirsty for rain.
My need of her leaves me an empty vessel,
Hers for me, fills me completely.