Morning, Come Poem by Heather Z. Hanna
Morning, Come
Morning, come.
Like a soft lingering kiss,
Gentle, stirring.
Waking visions of possibilities
Within the suggestive mind.
Opening the inner eye
To see opportunities
Awaiting the soul.
To express as a loving embrace
Of the spirit within the breast,
Beating quietly, steadily,
Assuredly.
Stimulating the body whole
With tingling vibrance
Of rising excitement
In pleasuring hope of
Love's invitation.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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4/26/2024 2:44:22 PM # 1.0.0.1119
