Something inside of you speaks to me so deep,
I can’t help wondering what we might have been.
I still feel this magnetic tug every time we meet,
Another time, another place, when this wasn’t such a sin.

A quiet place

In a quiet place - a room somewhere, where no trouble dwells
I would rub balm into your weary soul and be absorbed.

In that safe place, made sacred by our presence there, 
I would give warmth to your tired bones and absolve them of their woes.

Like a mirror, I would hold up to you your image,
So you see it through my eyes,
And are reminded of the good therein, not just the failings.

When life is dull, and monotony echoes through the week,
I would imbue its edge with colour,
As you paint rainbows above mine.

The Kiss

(published in London Poetry Pearl) 

No magic words need to be uttered
For I’m gripped by your natural spell,
When butterflies swift racing fluttered
To your sweet temptation I fell.

Those two halves that make your mouth
Have filled the whole space of my head,
It would be cruel I feel, in truth,
Had this fixation not been fed.

If with equal concentration
As my wayward mind off floats
I could attend my lecture time
Each student would desire my notes.

More desire poems..