it’s the joy of expression, and the joy
in your expression. light of easy mirth
written in dimples and mischievous eyes.
the play of words, yours roll on my tongue like
kisses, some sweet others rough with passion.
the shape and pucker of your lips become
my dreamscape’s major constellation, and I
travel cosmos rocketed by wings of light
to meet you within the moon’s secret orchard
where together we spread feasts of novelty,
delights of dawning familiarity
and stroll along the breathless shore, springing
acrobatic in lunar dance beside
the sea of tranquility, pointing earthward.
David M Pitchford
30 Oct 2011