An old writing, for you.
An old writing, for you.
I touch you and I feel
The softness of dew drops,
Lying on blades of grass.
I listen and I hear
The sound of water,
Tumbling over rock and sand.
When you lie near me,
I smell the scent of love,
Mixed with jasmine and another
Fragrance, much like the smell
Of new mown hay.
Soft lights, flickering candles,
Music, wine and you,
Gracing these harsh surroundings
Of steel and plastic.
Caught up in a world of
Fast moving events
With no time to slow down
And enjoy.