These Sunday mornings
Are perfection
With you
Being in your arms
Burying my nose
In your neck
Breathing you deeply
And letting you go
Again and again
Whispered words
And finding poetry
And motion and rhythm
Until waiting
For the next Sunday
Seems such a long thing to do
©Expressions by Christine 2010
Hey... you write the words stole out of my mouth. :P
ReplyDeleteThis was cleverly written with some phrases of worth. Poetry is motion, and as the words flow, a current of electrifying static can tingle your senses, and play in your thoughts!
ReplyDeleteWell done.
Thank you. Love love, Andrew. Bye.
I liked your picture.
ReplyDeleteThank you. Love love, Andrew. Bye.