My Love
Your skin glows like the sun,
blossoms passion
as the red rose in the purest hope of spring.
My heart follows your saxophone voice
and leaps like a tiger at the whisper of your name.
The evening floats on a great eagle wing.
I am comforted by your fragranced pashmine
I hold next to my lips.
I am filled with hope
that I may dry your tears of sun-wine.
In the quiet,
I listen to the last nightingale singing of the day.
I wait in our secret garden
for your healing kiss
so that we may discover each other again
under the moonlight
in search of the magnificent blue
and mystical river of desire.
Your skin glows like the sun,
blossoms passion
as the red rose in the purest hope of spring.
My heart follows your saxophone voice
and leaps like a tiger at the whisper of your name.
The evening floats on a great eagle wing.
I am comforted by your fragranced pashmine
I hold next to my lips.
I am filled with hope
that I may dry your tears of sun-wine.
In the quiet,
I listen to the last nightingale singing of the day.
I wait in our secret garden
for your healing kiss
so that we may discover each other again
under the moonlight
in search of the magnificent blue
and mystical river of desire.