Edward Hotspur’s Romantic Monday always seems to bring out the poet in me.
The heat of his touch sent shivers as he traced the curve of her spine.
The lasting sensation of the tingling desire, never would leave her mind.
The softness of his lips on hers, the warm sweet smell of his breath,
the longing look in his deep blue eyes, the sensual feel of his caress.
He moves with her in a rhythm like the waves upon the sea,
seeming to be one, and yet, what one can never be.
He explores her soul, for which it seems, is paired with his alone,
on a journey of erotic pleasures, to a destination unknown.
The intensity of his closeness, the gentle stroking of her skin,
she feels an energy like never before, releasing from within.
She is his tonight and his alone, for now, for tomorrow, for time.
The love they make, the tenderness they share, will forever be their bind.
As the sun awakens to extinguish the dark, she clings to the memory of the night,
the feeling of togetherness, the feelings they share, the feeling of being so right.
He is a part of her now, a piece of her heart, beating in time with her own,
he is the wind in her hair, the sun on her skin, her music of beautiful tone.
Never will she feel alone for he is living inside of her heart.
His gentle touch, his wink, his smile reassure her they never will part.