I would ask you to be my valentine
but my breath catches in my throat
before the words can come out

The thought of your lips touching mine
caressing the inner sanctuary
that few have delved into
to find the essence of me

Of hands that roam over and through
my valley's and depths
bringing the temper to scorching levels
as molten heat pools in the womb of life

Of a long hard body blanketing
covering trembling limbs
needing more....... seeking for ......... release

I would ask you to be my valentine
but my breath catches in my throat
as I envision our midnight ride
on moonbeams

the twist and turns of ecstasy
of black velvet touch opening
to view ....... to be viewed .... by you

the lightening sparks of softness
as winds of time whip over and under
celestial bodies of star flight

spinning fiery flames of completeness
swift moving hands of time
thrusting into yesterday
as the climax of today yields in soft sighs

and as these vision take hold
painting me in hues of red
I am the rose, my gift to you
Sweet surrender, my silken valentine

(C) Lynn Hatchett 2009