Saturday, April 21, 2007
HE NURTURES MY SENSES
He Nurtures My Senses His cleanness fills my senses A razor making roads over His chiseled face on a frame That was and is that of the Thin-hipped King I married He nurtures my senses Beautiful sounds come to me From a six string box with lots of tales Or an old fender electric, maybe the Mandolin or the violin and he sings A full house Beatles, Lightfoot or Jars of Clay He nurtures my senses His smile puts light in my dim eyes His jet speed fingers on a mandolin Are slow and tender as he...
Sign in to see full entry.
