Essence Of Her Ocean

I’m not the person who walks with you through autumn leaves In the old park near the school where children play in innocent reverie; I’m not the man mingling souls with the lady of all his dreams, But I am the man who desires such things. I’m the midnight candle that burns for love Beneath the gentle gaze of the moon, I’m the prayer spoken upon a pillow That will softly float into a woman’s room. My senses will one day all disappear Into the fragrance of her perfume, I will be the single teardropp of water Entering the essence of her ocean for eternity.