My heart dries as though in A desert of despare.
Waiting for the sweet succulant love which rains down from your soul.
I long to hear your voice.
Like that of angel wings fluttering upon the dawn of A new day.
Your touch.
holding me like that of A newborn, held in A mothers arms.
To be with you, always wishing at end, to let one more grain of sand from the hourglass of time to spend with you.
I slumber at night awaiting the mere touch of your body.
Like that of rose petals at first bloom.
I can do nothing to quench my thirst for your love surounding me as if heaven were but A whisper away.
My heart ackes for even the mere sight of you.
I am but A puppet upon gods hand.
until the sweet words of love drift willingly from your lips.
I do hope.
I do live.
I do love.

I am but A puppet upon gods hand.