Winter had a long, barren spell,
She left, and it was an end of the affair.
Inconsolable, he didn’t just lose a gem,
He was a poet, words now no longer helped.
It was testing, and inscribing ink was hell,
Until he reminisced, ’when inhibitions were shed’.
That day, he slid slyly and kissed her naked back,
Catching her off guard, she breathed a heavy air.
Taking hold of her, he caressed the tips of her hair,
He touched corners of heart, which she never felt.
She was trembling, they both clenched their hands,
Passion ignited more than fire in the timber lands.
Seeing her teary eyed, he gently touched her bare chest,
She surrendered completely; it was then, the affair began!
Though deserted now, hope is pinned on memories shared,
Poetry will flow again; will she reunite or will another story flare?
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