The clock ticks, and rings a chime, <br />A signal of the passing time. <br />The night outside is brisk and cold, <br />But here we are, and you I hold. <br /> <br />Quiet words of passion and love <br />Wing from lips like a graceful dove. <br />Hands fly over bare body and skin, <br />Pausing gently above your chin. <br /> <br />As we speak though, the night is fading, <br />Nature takes hold, she does no waiting. <br />We kiss again, wishing we could stay <br />Instead of leaving to face the day.<br /><br />Anne Rhitak<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-ticking-of-the-clock-2/
