The Passion
by Ironhand

I miss you most in the darkness before morn
in the softness of first light when I would reach for you

When the quiet of night
is softly sung a choir by the morning dove

I miss you most at the times we would be together

I miss your tenderness, the passion of our love
touching you , loving you, seeing in your eyes the love you share

I miss laying next to you
when the flowers receive the first ray of warmth in the early morn

I miss being in you
I feel so alone when you are gone…………….