Encounter
by Paige DeRosa
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Were you to brush my brow, with lips most soft in feel, ne'er would I want to wake, from a dream so real. You stroll beside the river, I take your hand in mine, our fingers touch but gently, a moment lost in time. Our lips at last do meet, as shades of noontide fade, lost in a sea of passion, my fears are soon unmade. You take me in your arms, run fingers down my cheek, a touch so chaste, so simple I cannot dare to speak. Our paths were meant to cross, I've waited long and true, Were you e'er to call my name, I would come to you. |
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