Where Rivers Rarely Flow
By Tim Smith
In the chill of the night
your closeness seduces me
and warms this tepid soul
let me linger lightly upon your body
and lie down across those loving fields
brush your passions against my holy spirit
touch my temple of knowledge with feathery delight
enter my ruins and rebuild my humanity
where heated rivers rarely flow
be the comfort that’s always wanted
and the needed cover to my bed
Copyright © by the owner.
