When the world sleeps and I am alone.
Warm are the dreams that are weaving.
They are of red satin and black lace.
She touches me softly like a slow falling rain.
In the warmth of her chamber I will surrender.
Winged into the harmony of her rhythm.
Colors are exploding in flight.
A rainbow descends its radiance.
My memories will hold the fragrance of this night.

Tweet

Comments on this poem/writing:

Click here to read other Poems by Rick Ryckman

Copyright©2017-1999 by Rebecca R. Hammack

COPYRIGHT NOTICE: All Rights Reserved.   No part of this website, including all pictures and written words,  may be reproduced or copied in any manner from this website without  permission of the original author of the work.  All poetry and pictures herein remain the sole property of the original author and/or copyright owner.  All poetry on this website has been submitted by the original author of the work. To contact any author of the work please e-mail: dreamer@dreamersreality.com  so the proper person may be notified.