I lay in long grass
Dreaming dreams
Of a young man
While Summer breathed
Forming faces
In the clouds
You wore lace
Laughters sound.
The sweetness
Of your body
The softness
Of your skin
The heat
Of our passion
Touching fingers
Lingering.
Your brown eyes
Seductive pools
Drawing my heart in
Falling helplessly
Under your spell
My senses to spin.
Away fell
Summer dreams
Each embrace
To haunt my soul
As your beautiful face
Became a memory
A young man
Now old.
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Author:
nephilim56 ( Norman Dickson) (
Offline) - Published: December 3rd, 2025 03:12
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 5
Offline)
Comments3
Ooohh, hugely inspiring titles from you (heehee) - cos me next poem could be, erm, Winter, Spring, or Autumn. I could take my pick! lol.
be my guest lol
Or if in USA, not Autumn, but Fall. 'Fall' in the UK relates to us being Birdmen. lol.
Day dreams appear in this poem as fancy prevails over reality in this poetic world. Nicely done
Most kind, thanks and much appreciated
You are most welcome
Lovely and genuine
thanking you and much appreciated
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