Continuing with my belated start to National Poetry Month, something short.
A gentle kiss that bears a promise
confirmed in the philtrf smile,
soft fingers like a breath on flesh
lingering, just a while.
Sweet words that caress
loving hands that speak,
these tell my wandering heart
here is the harbour I seek.
A closeness that needs no voice
a peace that stills the storm
this special human magic, can
an arduous world transform.