dotted and lined with measure
words of sounds to touch and express
while the music lingers
in a loving caress
simple notes held in a string
of thoughts and yearnings
that's what it means
just some words scratched and drawn
wrapped in soft kisses
then placed in a bow
wishes of lace and perfume so sweet
linger like the hum of the bird's feathered wing
floating in a globe of snowflakes and breeze
the touch of her lips
is what I love to breathe
notes and then missives
dreams that call soft
the memory is the moment
and the moment is throughout
the instant is forever, but forever is all around
as the chorus of soft music
embraces my heart
(c) Jerry Robkoff
1/7/2008
Life isn't measured by the number of breaths you take, but rather by that which takes your breath away
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