Senses Delight.

Blown roses waft what is described as scent, But bending near and inhaling, we find Much more - - an essence of unfixed, heaven-sent Spirit-core, being itself - - - not minding Invasion by others. - - The rose accepts Intrusion into it's space, graciously. Finger-tips brushing each other's skin begins Invisible contact too - - - - human soul's Softest approach is touch, tenderly rings Bells to awaken ecstasy's boldness. Warmth, invoking sensual thrill wraps close Around caring hearts - - to comfort wholly. Silence is toweringly tall, if observed And heard as beauty, quiet places drench Us in an awareness all their own, nervous We may be of yielding to unfenced Solitude, but the cosmos when entered Listens with us. - Senses are universal.