My heart beats in my breast and bursting, cries,
Each breath I take trails fire along my skin.
Your face before me when I close my eyes,
Your touch imagin’d, conjur’d from within,
My senses all awaken’d, now aflame,
And straining forward, ‘cross the distance call,
Alive with passion, whispering your name,
All reason gone, into your spell I fall.
Now thus invok’d, such magic do I feel
That music to my lips unbidden fly
And sing until you stand before me, real,
Inhabited by love’s eternal cry.
Affection, passion and desire now blend
With love and strength, a restless soul to mend.
-
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Ars Lirica 
Rebekkah,
These are some of the finest I’ve ever read: perfectly crafted to reflect depths so intimate, inspired, and intimidating, all in the same breathless gasp. This is a great poet!
David, thanks SO much for your kind comments! It’s funny you should say “perfectly crafted”, because they often come to me nearly fully formed, in those insane bursts of inspiration that defy reason and schedule.
The highest calling of the poet is amanuensis to the muse. ‘Sounds like you’re there.
Thank you. It’s not 100% of the time, and I’ll bet you can pick out which ones fall outside of amanuensis!