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Robert L. Martin

The Touching

The Touching
 
Vibrations from magic sources
Traveling along exotic courses
Strange but akin to nature’s way
The rites of love, as angels play
 
Feeling what heaven is all about
A warmth that wanders in and out
Weeping violins and soft perfumes
A feast that heaven so consumes
 
A soothing paradise of silent dreams
Of pulses running with virgin streams
From angelic cliffs to ruffled seas
To heaven’s gate with golden keys
 
The touching is a zealous story indeed
A determined knight upon a wild steed
Riding like a gentle soul possessed
To his fair maiden for love expressed
To speak of love is a story unfinished
To be touched is a story unspoken

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