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Oboe Me Over
Strings of violins,
Can mean so many things.
To a heart,
Missing...
The kissing,
Of a touch dipped in romance.
Strings of violins,
Gently bowed by those who know...
The missing,
And touch that's kissed,
By one who seeks romance.
Oboe me over,
With French horns caressing my need.
Sweeping me up into ecstasy.
Enthralled am I,
And timpanied.
Oboe me over,
With French horns caressing my need.
Sweeping me up into ecstasy.
Enthralled am I,
And timpanied.
Captured I am in your rhapsody.
Those strings of violins,
Can mean so many things.
To a heart,
Missing...
The kissing,
Of a touch dipped in romance.
Strings of violins,
Played over and over again.
Will never for me end...
My quest to be romanced.
Ooohhh,
Bowl me over,
With French horns caressing my need.
Sweeping me up into ecstasy.
Enthralled am I,
And timpanied.
And,
Captured I am...
In your rhapsody.
poem
by
Lawrence S. Pertillar
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