Her flawless curves and hair of silk, washed my eyes like a doves mothers milk. My burnette silouette she talks and she dances and moves like the wind.
Caught in a trance, her spell is a fabric of time thats divine and dark as a sin.. The blackness surrounds all of the light. Her words are like whispers deepest of thought. Her beauty unrivaled her temperment naught.
A creature of God an angel he made. Tempest of weaven souls cooling in shade. Her vouce is a song, sweet as a hum. Lasting in beauty on the tip of her tongue. Sing me to peace, sing me to sleep. Dream of lost love, lovers will keep. And lie at my side, forever a day. Weaving my hair, with fingers of play. Softly caress my worry and stress as we slowly begin to calmly undress. Taking the night, till after the dawn. Making sweet love, such a passionate song.
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