Poem for her 462

Dear Readers,


Always the hand holder


There you are sitting on that park bench
I saw you yet again this spring day
Sitting there with your bike nearby
I am shy and I walk up to you to say
Hey there, how was your ride today
I want to ask you out to the lake
To watch the shooting fireworks on the lawn
I can't seem to find my voice your eyes I see
Are looking at me and I smile slightly
Then the dream seems to fade as dawn hits me
The sound of your breathing so close to me
There is a wash of joy as my hands find you
So close to me, easy to touch and kiss
The dream of you is still as real as you
Laying there on Pillow and the fan moving
The sounds of dawn the birds chirping
My fingers lace into yours at your side
You stir and I hear you say softly
Always and forever come ride with me love


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.