When errant breezes catch your hair,
I watch it flow – a stream of golden fire –
and my blood races with desire.
Your skin, in early morning light,
invites my touch, soft and warm –
to your body’s hive my senses swarm.
Hair, skin, body, touch – they all
thrill me, and they never fail
to float my boat, to raise my sail.
You are my love, my life, the star
in my night-time sky, my treasure –
and if I should die before you,
well…it’s been a pleasure!
Bill Fitzsimons