There is a place I go in the wilderness
Where you and I exist
The trees grow fruits of bitterness
But from them we never chew
You gently take my hand and kiss
And clouds do form from eagerness
Inside they fill with love and bliss
And rain on us so feverish
Vines will grow from our love
Fires will burn from our glow
We may kiss fast or we may kiss slow
Our laughter it reaches the gods above
I love when you whisper in my ear
You tell me you love me and call me your dear
That’s probably my favorite thing to hear
Because I really love you too
© Delia Ross. 2019
