The Feeling Poem by George Knight

Then it hits
Sweet and soaring
Flowing up and out
Inside, the buzzing
Below, a pressure
Body and mind fused
In a daze of pleasure
Exhaling slowly
And the heart quickly
Warmth Increasing
Pride is waiting
Perhaps then shaming.
Bliss is surging.
Field disappearing
Where petals are fleeting,
Amongst the grass
Or on the soft sand
On the softest bed
Or the hardest floor
The image is disappearing
Replaced by a blanket
White as bliss
To cloud the view
Merely seconds
Of that comfort
Which is bright and hopeful
Smooth and precise
Twinkling sensation
Unknotting joints
Loosening limbs
Like foamy waves receding
Timeless
Wordless
And that's it.