The Sealing Of A Tender Kiss
Nothing more is necessary
His heart swells at the sight of this woman,
The one that deliciously smiles into his eyes,
She holds his hand, their fingers entwined,
And she lets out a happy and romantic sigh.
***
He loves this woman with his entire being,
She’s all he could ever have dreamed of finding,
He’s well aware of her preciousness,
And he plans on a ring forever binding.
***
He stutters in breath as he watches her glide this earth,
An angel fallen from the distance skies above,
A dove with pure white wings, floating into his universe,
Accepting and returning the productivity of love.
***
Her voice carries whispers only his ears can hear,
Music that adorns her breathlessly, music his soul is tethered,
Heart strings entwined in the manner of their fingers,
Ripples of ecstasy on her skin and feathers.
***
He lays her gently by his side,
To worship her existence as is her delight,
A measure of fingertips that do roam,
Perfection, sheer perfection, is within his sight.
***
A single moan escapes her pretty lips,
As their souls ignite in their own glorious fire,
This is no earthly love, but one made of starlight,
Filled with moonbeams and nightly desire.
***
A blessing to both, as they adorn their righteousness,
The beings of energy, on display for each other,
Truth shines light, healing their brokenness,
Their love is powerful enough to smother.
***
Hatred does not exist within their realm,
It’s impossible to feel such emotion inside their bubble,
Preciousness is the order of the day,
Disarraying all those who wish to cause them trouble.
***
The fullness of being, when they lie together,
Is nothing but the purest of heavenly bliss,
A promise, an oath, from one to another,
Needing nothing more than the sealing of a tender kiss.
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****
Please click the link below my name to read more of my work. I would also like to thank you for taking the time to read this today and for all your support.
If you enjoy this piece, you may enjoy this one too.
Originally posted on Medium
About the Creator
Colleen Millsteed
My first love is poetry — it’s like a desperate need to write, to free up space in my mind, to escape the constant noise in my head. Most of the time the poems write themselves — I’m just the conduit holding the metaphorical pen.
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Comments (2)
Awwww, this was so lovely!
So romantic and so beautiful. Well done