Love is the touch

that heals the wound,

a gentle press, nothing much,

but still, it is enough.

You know he is there,

waiting on the bed,

longing to run his fingers through your hair.

You'll go to him soon,

and finally when you go,

his voice and his words shall be sweet,

saying how he loves you so.

You'll talk for a while,

and he'll just hold your hand,

but his patience will wear thin.

When he kisses you, you'll understand,

then comes the time that he'll hold you close,

closer still than ever before.

He'll hold you to him all night long,

the passion of his love heating your very core,

and with morning light, you shall see,

just how wonderful his love can be.