I call but there's no anwer and I write without reply,
I look but cannot find you, my reach is always shy;
I long for lost embraces, sustained, secure, and sure,
and remnant spectral traces that may still endure;
Your smile was brilliant sunshine piercing thunderous cloud,
Your laughter, sweet succour, lifting gloom's maudlin shroud;
Your smell, fragrant musk, sentimental pheromone,
Your lush long locks within my fumbling fingers, now gone;
Centigrade risings from our loins, taut, intense, long missed,
Retrograde passion of our lips, locked wetly, deep kissed;
Lemonade bitter parting, sugar shared so sweetly,
Soothing strokes of silken skin, severed so neatly;
Love lost impales the soul upon the stake of desire,
Trove of heartfelt treasure, in flames, upon cruel pyre.
© Copyright 2009-2011 Gerry Gilligan - SligoBay with all rights reserved.