Your lips are like the tips of lily red,
As soft as velvet rain that falls at night,
Where bumble bees will bury deep their head
Before the dawn becomes the morning light.

Your eyes expose each secret of your soul,
Well hidden in the essence of your heart,
As I await the splendor of your whole
To suddenly escape as your lips part.

Your voice sings soft each night to me in dreams,
The songs of ancient tribes so long ago,
Where freedom found its fruit in crystal streams
And laughter was the sound we cherished so.

I wish I were a bee and free to probe
The perfumed scent beneath your blue-black skin;
Enfolded in your soft vermilion robe
I'd taste of every place you've ever been.