Olivia Chevron

Walking the Vineyards

I want to press my lips

Upon your softened brow.

To taste your saline skin

Smooth as the wines of Dão.

I want to hold your hand,

Touch your hair, caress your face.

I want to drink of you.

In wine, a glass, a case.

I want to share my soul

And rest my weary head.

I want to spend the night

Upon your pillowed bed.

Sunday 23 April 2006

All rights belong to its author. It was published on e-Stories.org by demand of Olivia Chevron.
Published on e-Stories.org on 25.04.2006.

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