Sonnet #2

I long for the warmth of her embrace,

Like the blanket of summer air,

Fragrant and heady like the enchanting mace,

A frantic heart in exhilaration, An affair

Of hearts in mystical bliss,

Ignorance of the tangible mundane,

Teems with the fecundity once amiss,

I float weightless on this breeze arcane,

Sprouting wings I glide ephemeral,

To the garden that she oft nurtures,

Discreet, I spawn an urge chimeral,

And I, the moth her glow enraptures,

The astral shimmering in her bottomless eyes,

I delved and drowned, Never to rise!

Moments

I tilted my head in disappointment,

And stared blank the longest moment,

Anticipation of a pat or a velvety touch,

I cared not much to let her know,

Any more than cryptic signals,

A tilt, a tear and glassy stares,

Merely all I cared to venture,

And now, As I relive the times,

The longest moment grows longer,

And engulfs in a time warp,

My solitude and Me.