Lover Man Poem by Hershe Moore

In passing,
perfection!
Tall in stature and easy on the eyes,
Neatly groomed,
swoon you when he speaks.
Taking notice of my interest,
sneaking a peak...
His posture is grande
Hands appearing unwed,
My mouth agape,
Slowly,
He fed me..

Passion dipped in caramel kisses,
and butterfly gardens of posies.

Led me...

To lands of milk and honey,
and silks woven with rosies

My senses have adapted to his scent,
His touch is repetitious,
Endless are the depths of his reach.
He became my author,
Compelling with his speech.
Words tender as the bosom.
I remain able to teach.
Ever learning his rhythm,
Yearning to be beseeched.
I'd speak if the words were willing
to free my vocals admission,
Leak of his substance
with total submission
I'll tell you what he said if you listen...

He...
Sung of chords with words unwritten,
lyrics inspired by me.

He...
Recited my chorus in a baritone serenade,
as his fingers played gracefully.

My marriage hand is taken,
Our womb begins to expand.
Place a concrete foundation
upon Holy land.
I accompany his presence,
My complexion glows with his adoration,
I flow with grace to his table,
Adorned in succulent decorations.

Lover man,
Should you have passed me,
Eternity would forever have asked me,
You think he'll be back around any time soon?