The Ace Of Spring Poem by Richard Lyne

In the arms of a warm embrace,
Purer than this world can give,
I glimpse the eyes of a golden face
And a smile for which I live.

On the cloud of her perfect heart,
I find myself adrift in grace.
If only I could now restart,
I’d have been there in the first place.

I cannot pen all that I feel,
For words just couldn’t make my case.
I cannot earn the warmth I steal,
Or the touch of skin as smooth as lace.