Not In A Sonnet?
He turned to her and gently held her tight,
by Terry Donovan
She snuggled up and in his arms resigned.
Enlivened by the passion of the night
And with one thought their bodies intertwined.
He traced her firm young outline one more time
But, as each time, encountered pastures new,
He started off the rhythm, she the rhyme
And slow but sure the integration grew.
She gave her all, accepted all he gave,
And, anchored like a ship upon the sea,
They floated but they rose with every wave.
Their bodies fixed, their feelings floated free.
When morning dawned, they lay there for a while,
Remembering. Two pensioners. One smile.