Awe

Virtual fantacy, pick up that phone call at the end of this poem, hence reality starts.

It may only be virtuality, but to me,
when I pick-up where I left off
From that poem journal you sent,
Why, my dreamy eyes see yours...
Your voice so soothing as I read
verse after verse, crystal clear each syllable I hear...
I picture you on my pillow, here...
The words I want to tell you, I'm reading
How you knew the right words I'm feeling,
No one thing nor anyone has ever effected
me, this way, the imagery your words paint,
I feel my heart is pounding as I long for,
more of your sweet expressions that come
Through each rhyming poem...
I'm full of your lovely passions,
I mark your words, and awe, all
I set the covers together,...
rest that little love,...
This starts over, as I reach to pick up your call.