And Me, Still in Bed-

[Guest guest]

And Me, still in bed- Tis' not my vivid dreams of you, nor the daybreak snuggle and half awake kisses which make you real. Make you... you. Not the way the silken sheets fall from your silken essence as you waltz for coffee, then, a warm shower, perhaps singing. The day awaits your light. The clouds pack their luggage, and me, still in bed- Nothing exists at this moment except your pillow. Your head's imprint still there. The scent of flowers. The scent of love. How did you capture my life and senses so easily? I hear you singing. The front door opens, and everything beautiful under Heavens plateau awaits your

smile. Someway, somehow, you are the missing piece of each and every one. They know this and greatly appreciate the fullness. The feeling of wholeness each day. Each rush hour ritual, and me, still in bed- I know this also, though still enmeshed in the soft lingering vibrations from your song an hour ago. Longer I think. The grand majesty of becoming lost in you. Your every breath and every subtle movement takes me into slow motion, where nothing is overlooked and fully sculptured into evermore. No time is lost for it doesn't exist. Such magic in that if it tries to tap my shoulder, by then, you have returned to

my arms and to love anyway. Tis' not my vivid dreams of you, nor the daybreak snuggle and half awake kisses which make you real. Which make you... you. -Randy

Never miss a thing. Make your homepage.

[Guest guest]

Wow! This was wonderful!

Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile

-----Original Message-----

From: Randy <jqpublic_59@...>

Date: Wed, 28 Nov 2007 09:40:42

, united_by_hearts

Subject: [] And Me, Still in Bed-

And Me, still in bed-

 

 

Tis' not my vivid dreams of you,

nor the daybreak snuggle

and half awake kisses

which make you real.

Make you... you.

 

Not the way the silken sheets

fall from your silken essence

as you waltz for coffee, then,

a warm shower, perhaps singing.

The day awaits your light.

The clouds pack their luggage,

and me, still in bed-

Nothing exists at this moment

except your pillow.

Your head's imprint still there.

The scent of flowers.

The scent of love.

How did you capture

my life and senses so easily?

I hear you singing.

 

The front door opens,

and everything beautiful

under Heavens plateau

awaits your smile.

Someway, somehow,

you are the missing piece

of each and every one.

They know this

and greatly appreciate

the fullness.

The feeling of wholeness

each day.

Each rush hour ritual,

and me, still in bed-

I know this also,

though still enmeshed

in the soft lingering vibrations

from your song an hour ago.

Longer I think.

 

The grand majesty

of becoming lost in you.

Your every breath

and every subtle movement

takes me into slow motion,

where nothing is overlooked

and fully sculptured

into evermore.

No time is lost

for it doesn't exist.

Such magic in that

if it tries to tap my shoulder,

by then, you have returned

to my arms and to love

anyway.

 

Tis' not my vivid dreams of you,

nor the daybreak snuggle

and half awake kisses

which make you real.

Which make you... you.

 

 

 

                                                                          -Randy

----------------

Never miss a thing. Make your homepage.

<http://us.rd./evt=51438/*http://www./r/hs>