Love Bound

Love Bound

 

Some call me a lucky wench

as I lie here on this bench,

waiting for the first soft touch

of the hands I love so much.

From soft to hard, slow to swift,

I can sense that subtle shift;

Yes, he knows my every need.

This I know, by such I’m freed

From the hurt that I’ve endured;

I can rest in love assured,

know that I can be myself,

not hide away on a shelf,

where no one  can ever see me smile,

In that slow, ever sweet style,

that shows that I am at peace,

having felt happy release,

from the stress that I once knew,

from those things that made me blue.

Now I turn my face to you

as the lights begin to dim;

all your equipment brought out;

Why I’m here, I have no doubt.

The feather touch of his hand

takes me to the promised land.

There is no hurt or sorrow there,

no hate, fury or despair.

How I love it when I’m kissed,

that sweet feeling that I’ve missed,

that turned me all upside down,

sent me spinning round and round,

made me feel I’d reached the sky.

You let me know that I can fly,

up to the stars high above,

never lose your tender love.

So now I must say,

god bye;

There are things that I must do

to ensure new heights of bliss

with every successive kiss.

So, until we meet again,

I will be bound to you,

for the first I call you my Master,

I call you my lover

and I even call you my friend.

 

Miss Monique

 

Wednesday, 17 September 2014

Code: 1409171988787© 2014 Safe Creative

License: All rights reserved

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Om Stene Anker

Just some words...
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