How I long for a slow waltz on a sultry, moonless night.

With veranda’s doors thrown open to the breeze.

With the heavy scent of lilacs and only a candle light,

To illuminate the swaying willow trees…

As the violin’s sweet music plays a haunting, soft refrain;

And ghostly, white magnolias scent in air,

My blood, it flows so heavy like molasses through my veins,

As dreams take flight where once they could not done!

In yards of antique satin, my delicate spun lace;

In arms so strong I willingly give in.

To the freedom of the music and the thrill of his embrace,

As together we throw caution to the wind…

When the ancient oaks call softly, we waltz beneath their arms,

Trading candlelight for mossy, muted hues;

Where shadows dance upon a mist that thickly hides the dawn;

So our shrouded words stay hidden from all views…

Now beckoned…