Beauty to Touch, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Beauty to Touch

Flying in white clouds with silver linings.
Higher and higher closer to heaven,
Moving as if I had Icarus’ wings.
Reaching, almost able to touch the sun.

There before me is a radiant glow,
A potion of the earth’s most perfect gold,
In a shape that I am longing to know.
To gather in my arms to closely hold.

Of her beauty know not where to begin,
Be it exotic feelings on my lips,
Or the magic of her against my skin.
Upon my tongue her precious nectar drips.

If it’s reality it does not seem,
Tell me not it is an opium dream.

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