A woman’s soul is a delicate rose
That cries out for love
Close intimacy to keep breathing
Happy thoughts to keep believing
A scent of essence in the bed
Wake up in the morning new day ahead
A soul when it is touched, caress
When hands have contact the body for sex
The soul grows into a precious flower
Petals brightens the manicure garden
The watering hose pours more love
To the tall, tighten aromatic dove
of a flower. A baby rose fed and grow
thru love from the soul
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
