Heavenly to write of touch
Rushes of times when such stuff
As transference or lapping waves
Met on the sun blessed beach
Faith to care for futures much
Exalted hopes honed good enough
For Neapolitan throws, or slow
Walks off the boardwalk out of reach
Presence then to talk in tongues
Of colours, scents and textures crushed
To feel the velvet worn with razored silk
As the forlorn son of man with lust impeached
Heavenly to write of either in the ether
Flushes of times reminded, hushed voices
That floated free on the Pyrenean breeze
Soft words squeezed hidden by the lovers breach
