IT´S YOU:

It´s your voice I hear, in the singing of the larks,

In the chatter of the trees, as I walk in the park,

Within raindrops falling, you whisper my name,

It´s your voice I hear, yet, it´s not quite the same.

 

It´s your scent I smell, upon sweet morning rose,

In the nodding of violets, in their gentle repose,

In the briny aromas, of the salty oceans & seas,

It´s your perfume I can smell-& oh, how they tease.

 

It´s your eyes I can see, watching me from the stars,

In firmaments & planets, of faraway Jupiter & Mars,

In the watchful gaze, of beasts & the innocent child,

It´s your eyes, following me, both gentle & so wild.

 

It´s your skin that I feel, upon satin fabrics of silk,

In white-washed moonbeams & in marble-cold milk,

In the soft dusted wings, of the midnight moon-moth,

It´s your skin, caressing my cheek, in the passing of cloth.

 

It´s your touch I can sense, within the kissing of breeze,

In the skimming of my brow, by Autumnal gold leaves,

In the spray of cold oceans, in snowflakes & new dew,

It´s your touch that´s caressing me & I know, it´s just you.

 

It´s your love that surrounds me, wherever I am & I go,

In my tears & raindrops, & in sighing of winds that blow,

In my blood of wine, raiment of skin & heart of no bone,

It´s you returning, holding my hand, to take me back home.