The English Rose
She comes behind me and runs her finger up my back as beautiful as a Rose is she and laughs at my crack. So lovely she teases me and I smile as days of old as she whispers in my ear and makes me pant and pant some more with my head coming clear. My thirst for love is everything so deep within my being and centres me on this very one for she is the picture I am seeing. A joy to behold is she and love it grows for that woman oh that English Rose .
Remembrance of magic summer Nights she comes into view and eyes follow that English Rose for in that crowd we are two. As we meet she teases me no matter where we are make me want to stop and stare and go babbling wishing on a star. She quickens Heart it beats so fast and mind goes wandering free and in this nature I shall stay with hope that it will last. For meeting her in weeks of plenty even in weeks of cheer she comes so close my mind goes blank and whispers in my ear. In silent chambers I sit down and imagine her with me and so it goes and dream about That English Rose.
By
Ben
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