Sunday morning

silken sheets,
Warm soft lover at my side,
Hours pass as the sun crosses this late winter sky, Spring busts both inside and out,
Heart filled with the joy of lives entwine as one, Morning passes to afternoon,
Still hiding beneath soft cotton,
Warm and shrouded from the world of reality outside, Real life not penetrating this soft cocoon,
Lost within eyes so blue and deep,
Missing for a lifetime in your gaze,
Free falling in your arms,
Dizzy from just one touch of sweet soft lips, Flying high to dizzier heights, Unaccustomed to be so high,
Fear of falling all but gone,
To lay in warming arm,
In silken sheet on Sunday morning.

We have all had a Sunday morning like this, they are tofew, as we busy ourselves with life. However, if we did it regularly surely they would lose importance when they come along.

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