Heart Paintings

Sometimes, it is not enough to talk
And rack my brain for words that
Suit the grace of your walk.
Your sweet stride so flat.
The language of your soft touch
And the warmth of your breast.
Like a kangaroo’s pouch ....
Melts me in your arms as I rest.

The nectar of your sweet lips
Can never be written in words.
The magic of water as it drips
From your hair like glass swords.

Oh what tremors are sent through
My willing and docile spirit
This love is really true
I fail to say but I heavily feel it.

You are the painting of my heart.