Wake me with a kiss,
and stir my dreams with lips brush.
Might that I feel–
the soft, tender press–of loves flower.
Between the unturned pages
of my heart
Charles Coakley Simpson
This entry was posted on July 4, 2013 by Charles. It was filed under Poetry and was tagged with Companionship, Compassion, Intimacy, Longing, Poetry, Sensuality, Solace, Unconditional love.
Schöner Text,wünsche ein schönes Wochenende.Liebe Grüße Gislinde
January 11, 2014 at 6:49 am
Hope you doing well and the New Year brings you happines….
January 15, 2014 at 1:09 am
This is very talented Blog,i have a big pleasure to be here ,Take care,EM
March 22, 2014 at 7:54 am
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