The time is now, and like dreams,
Somehow holds the secret to our hearts' desire.
The cool blackness of the night enfolds
And caresses us.
Like the arms of our beloved,
Deep in the web of intrigue.
Love is our desire to be wanted,
As a child to it's a Mother's breast is held.
As lovers, hand in hand
Walk the path of emotion.

by Ardenelle M. Mason

Other poems of ARDENELLE M. MASON (2)

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