Silent is the rush that is hushed,
When dew to witness at dawn appears.
And it is clear the satisfaction of it,
Does not disappoint the ones...
Coming to face The Sun when they awaken,
From a bliss to reach and meet perfectly matched.
Silent is the afterglow to show with a doing done,
From a heated love to make let loose to slow its hold.
And silent become the moans of passion released,
Unleashed completely in unquestioned ecstacy!
Thursday, May 15, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: love