Poem Hunter
YS Yvette Settle (LEO 1964 / Mount Vernon, New York)


By day the reality of his world and of my world

Souls grow weary, loins must hold back while yearnings beckon us…Come, but the moment is long and time whispers... wait.

At the edge of what is of light now grows dark…the hour calls us.

What is still, like peace amidst the sunrays... then arises and is evoked by torment in the wake of the night?

Powering presence like a mighty beast of the wild, passion takes its victim unyieldingly and with purpose moves him from his slumber

In a journey swift and deliberate… he comes to me with his driven spirit to lay desire upon my breast

By night the reality of his world and my world
Souls join, flesh enmesh, and longing gives way to time
Where passion finds its place beneath a world of care held by lovers strong embrace.

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