Snuggled up, not a care.
Fingers stroking, softly through hair.
Watching the Oscars, looking at stars.
But the brightest of all, was in my arms.
Snuggled up, in our world.
A happy Daddy, with his Babygirl.
Watching the Oscars, where bombshells dress to impress.
But the most beautiful bombshell, was led head on my chest.
The hardest part of our separation?
The longing for sex, carnal deprivation.
The ache inside for your open thighs.
The taste of your sex that I’m being denied.
The hardest part of being apart.
Are days like today being surrounded by hearts.
Whilst words can convey my Valentine’s ideal.
It can’t give me the touch that makes love so real.
That look in your eyes,
An invigorating smile,
Signs that I read so clear.
A touch to my face,
Movement with grace,
A kiss I’ll always revere.
The love can be felt,
Both hearts start to melt,
As our coupling begins again.
Uplifted in bliss,
A feeling so missed,
Replacing our separation’s pain.
I sit and ponder what to write,
Something original, something trite?
Something sexual, poems of love?
One thing I know, it’ll be about us.
I write for you, I write for me.
I write of things we’ve felt and seen.
I write our chronicle, our history.
I write of what will come into being.
As I sit I ponder, what tonight?
Who knows what? But I’m certain I’ll write.