The Touch

Skin to skin,

lips to lips.

The slight touch from your hand,

the magical tingling feeling from your finger tips.

Penetrating my soul,

from your gaze into my eyes,

like a crystal ball,

revealing my future to see if my heart can stand the test of time.

And in my mind,

its that touch that set me on fire,

the burning flame,

of passion and desire.

I know I must 'cease and desist' trying to capture your heart,

but as my muse,

your initial touch means I am willing to travel near and far.

Whether you let me back in,

like that black ninja who appeared one night,

who touched me with a kiss,

in front of a hotel  on a cold winters night.

I am content with my dreams but its the touch in the real world I long for.

mind to mind,

body to body,

I will wait like the sands of time,

as an egg timer is never empty,

your spiritual intellectual energy has inspired me.

I will have the 'colour of right',

to possess a heart which is not mine

and hopefully will come the touch,

which I have campaigned for

using my verse and rhyme.