With whispers of sweet nothings
Lovers undressed her body,
But could never undress her soul.
The depths of her; her very essence,
They would never know.
Tag: Love
-
-
Gorgeous pearls and rare diamonds adorn her.
A beautiful angel she is, and they adore her;
She is ravishing and wondrously alluring.
Aesthetically unmatched her recipe is prepossessing.
A goddess among women and incomparably charming,
But behind seductive hazel eyes lies desolation and decay;
Her mask is worn and starts to disintegrate day after day.
They love her in her glory but secretly despise her.
In dark corners they devise plans to destroy and ruin in utter.
She is a beautiful roe unaware of the hunter’s bow;
If they would know her humanness and deep sorrow;
If they were aware that at night at walls she stares;
If they would only see her pleasantries and genuine sympathies,
But they are poisoned by long held jealousies and secretive envy.
To know her, is to know longing for genuine love.
To be in her company is to see kindness and generosity.
To look into her eyes is to see a loving woman in despair;
In her sterility she desires fertility, to one day have a family;
And she ponders the duality of life and finality.
Lonely, she slips into her royal blue silk nightgown.
Another arduous night has come;
Precious tears stream as in darkness she softly lies down.
-
In love’s perpetuity we have found immortality.
-
Forever loved, she rests in their hearts eternally.
In death, she is resurrected through loving thoughts and precious memories.
-
If tears should fall from my eyes when I look at you it is because I love you
If you should wake up to bouquets of burgundy roses it is because I adore you
If I should say Please don’t go, it is because I can’t live without you
If I should suddenly hold and kiss you it is because I’m drawn to you
If I should reach for you in my dreams it is because I need you
If I should tell you that you are my angel, know that my words are true.
-
As dusk drew near
And with loving tears
We held each other
And passionately wept
After the storm
We went through;
You said:
I will always love you;
My intentions are pure,
And my heart is true;
You are my sunshine
And I am your rose
In the morning dew.
It was then that
You had my heart
In your embrace,
And I really knew you. -
On warm summer nights
And winters dreary,
I think about you.
I love you;
I hope you
Hear me. -
My undying love for you
Has never changed;
Let the heavens welcome us
At the end of our days,
And may the worlds forever
Know our names;
Let tales of our legendary love
Be whispered in intimate settings,
And romantic cafes;
The essence of our commitment,
And dedication
Will be reenacted in plays;
You are the blood
That run through my veins;
On that day when all tears
Are wiped away,
I shall again hold your hand
And say:
Your are my light;
Beside me you stand
Adorned in white;
You are beautiful beyond
A thousand lush green valleys
At the dawning of the sun;
The kindness of your eyes
With no justice my words
Could describe;
The length and fullness of your hair
Are like a thousand endless waterfalls
Sprinkled with gold dust,
Glistening in the summer sun;
Your skin is a marvelous wonder,
Delicate and precious
Shimmering under a full moon
In the soft caress of the twilight;
Your lips are as soft and beautiful
As burgundy rose petals
In the freshness of the morning dew;
Your nose is like a perfect sculpture,
Crafted with the precision
Of the maker’s skilled hands;
Your earrings compliment
The silhouette of your neck;
Bracelets adorn your wrists,
Highlighting Your loving
And graceful hands.
You are my day,
And you are my night.
I love you … I love you …
Life could never destroy us,
And death could never separate us;
You are the wind that carries me
In endless dreams;
You are my rest …
And peaceful stream.
You are ingrained in me;
With tears in my eyes
And on one knee,
I affirm to all who hear or see,
That you forever
Are my lady. -
Jane Child – Don’t Wanna To Fall in Love
-
In my anxiety
I thought I had
Found an angel
On the day
You said that
You loved me,
But unbeknownst
To me
It had been
A work of trickery,
And the beginning
Of my misery.
Intimate Compositions 