Something Gentle - Poem by Ian Bowen
Slow lingering kisses
by a log fire; that burns
and flickers with myriad coloured flames..
Perfume of candles enhance senses.
The softness of fur
strokes our nakedness.
An orchestra of violin, glide
in the glory of peaceful sound.
Touch teases temptation
as words whispered
control our quiet evening....
until the fire begs another log.
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Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You