before the sleep torn silent dawn
shadows of moonbeams streak
after the exiting midnight
and the stars disappearance
lurks the specialist time
of fantasies emoted
of realities pressed
where every lover knows
spawned in the whisper of the dew
birthed in the rustle of the sheets
praised in the deep silence
massages turn manifested
even the crickets muse
and the birds announce
aroused in subtle desire
sensual surroundings
where massage matures
nothing is naughty
fanciful flesh yearns
and becomes satiated
in soft moans and groans
candy kisses, tender touches
where nothing ends, the lovers merge
and then hold on forever, this moment
naked as the day they were born
and smile, unashamed, greeting the dawn
local_library
Loving in the Morning