Black Poetry : just…visioning

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sitting in front of the fireplace
staring into the flames
logs crackling as they burn
the Christmas tree lights twinkling
like tiny bright stars
a choo-choo train circling its base
the scent of fresh homemade
blueberry muffins nakedly traipsing
around the house
as you sit near the bay window
playing the piano
as I sit on the couch
knees up against my breasts
writing love poems to your hands
trying my best to relax as I think of nothing
but you and how deliciously beautiful you are
my thoughts trying their best to find
their way to your brains to tell you
how blessed I am to have found My Him
safely tucked and protected inside you

 

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thinking I hear his voice
bellowing in the westward wind
and against the belly of the trees
I listen intensely to the rumbling of their leaves
hoping the sound of his footsteps are close behind
I give the breeze my full attention
feeling the enveloping embrace of its warmth
as it blows gently through my turquoise gown
to caress my body ever so softly
mimicking the tenderness, of his touch