Bed Of Roses

That perfect day
when we first met,
though cold and windy,
holds no regrets

The connection was forged
the desires were strong
Flirtatious glances
from hearts with longing

The crescendo builds,
and the passion starts
Anticipation meets
long after dark

And the bed of roses
on which we lay,
the sheets now cold
but the feelings remain


Poetry by M.J.B. is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.