Lovescape.
I am soft-sift in thine hands.
Fast as in an hourglass the drift
toward moments of intimate fancy
as thy kisses drench my expectant skin.
I am drawn to this Lovescape.
Fired by thy moth-soft voice I lie
and view in thine blaze of blue-jay
eyes bliss over-riding female shyness.
I am much blown away by need.
Burnt to a frazzle in hunger\'s bowl,
half-sunk under fire\'s thirsty heaves
is my first resistance to passionate role.
I am sealed by thy fervour.
Bathed by zeal\'s desired flavour
and close to yield I vote thy court
favoured thus to love must I capitulate.