Until Morning Comes

by Joyce Oscar

The last time I saw him

he lay comfortably within my arms.

The heat from each breath he took

ignited my soul

and each pant became

a part of my existence.

I can still feel the wetness of his lips

as they took form to the curve of my breast.

Each kiss fell softly,


and unhurriedly.

Now unable to sleep, I sit by the window.

With my questioning eyes

peering towards the stars,

I am consumed with the memories

of our last sunset.

The essence of jasmine filled the air

while bodies of candlelight

danced against the windows.

It was at that moment that

I felt comfort.

I still hear the sounds of the raindrops

as they fell lightly upon the rooftop.

They seemed to dance to the rhythm

of our beating hearts producing

an exquisite song of passion.

Then he turned, and with his rest

seemingly undisturbed, he pulled

me into his slumber.

It was at that moment that I felt love.

Yes the last time I saw him,

his body lay wrapped in the moonlight.

And I am continually haunted

by the memory of him

until morning comes. 

Until Morning Comes by Joyce Oscar

© Copyright 2006. All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be duplicated or copied without the expressed written consent of the author.

TimBookTu Logo

Return to the Table of Contents | Return to Main Page