The canopy of stars hung precariously,
while the fire licked the air.
Frogs serenaded the romantic night,
as his hand ran gently through her hair.
She turned to face him in the moonlight,
her reflection held in his eyes.
Her portrait etched in a sea of deep blue,
encircled by sparks, like fireflies.
The night air hovered around them,
warming their skin with its trace.
His grasp on her skin was electric,
as his fingers outlined the curve of her face.
Her instinct was to move into his body,
and his reaction followed her lead.
She could feel the energy building,
his want, his desire, his need.
The beauty of the night was unequaled,
the passion they felt was intense.
The night slowly swallowed their surroundings
leaving passion to hang in suspense.
The blanket of darkness surrounded them
as the horizon fell out of sight.
His body became her protection
under the cover of the night.
This was written for Edward Hotspur’s Romantic Monday.