Robert W. Birch
We walk a secret path today,
in the moment of our quiet intimacy.
Not knowing where this trail will lead,
nor grasping when it ends.
We share our private thoughts today,
trusting they'll do no harm.
Along this path we stop to share
inner feelings, deep desires.
We walk today this special route,
and each reach out for the other.
Hands and hearts together now,
spirits joyful and intertwined.
My mind is filled with sweet images,
like souvenirs collected along our way.
Memories to prompt our journey,
each exciting as the last.
Someday the path we walk today
will narrow so only one
must walk alone in silence
with the memories of what had been.
Collected memories in my mind,
a mental scrapbook for me to carry
if I must take the narrow path
and carry only the traces of your being.
Memories of your smiling lips,
eyes that danced with laughter.
sensual images of full breasts
warm and soft under my gentle touch.
Images of your womanhood
proud and free in its response.
Fragrances that will long linger
after the rose has gone.
Your gentle loving heart,
caring in such an honest way.
A brilliant grown-up mind,
but still within the playful child.
Remembrances of our secret walk
along that hidden path
will warm my soul on winter days,
a bright star to light my nights.