Deliciously Invading


Angel of Death
The trite call that now beckons
into the darkness of bittersweet nights,
with quite thoughts that adore on our minds.
Bright eyes and gentle moans.
So inviting are they; creeping in dreams.
So wrong, yet right in every way…
Giving flight to stirring emotions
All in the faded colors of black and white.
At first just a sight to be hand,
A voice to be heard overnight….
Soon drifting with ill fading light
Upon our fingertips so wrongfully right
toiling with delight in gentle teases…
Everlasting bright smiles
That bid farewell to this ill witted though uninvited
Yet so deliciously invading and ever polite.