A little Mills & Boon
Snatched moments,
a darkened doorway,
honeyed kisses,
a fervent caress
What is love,
all feverish and sweaty.
A warm hand
on a pert breast.
Bright eyes,
glistening like pearls
hot passions
and lustfulness.
Come to me,
come to me,
night hides
our love nest.
Heady thrills,
two hearts melting.
These days of youth
are fleeting.
Love me or weep,
my aching heart
yearns for you
I cannot sleep.
She moans, he sighs.
We lovers shall not
heed the morning light;
we are forsaken.
poem by Ruth Walters
Added by Poetry Lover
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