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A Collection of Poems by Joan Estelle High Book 3 ©1994- 2005 |
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by Joan Estelle High © June 2000 His finger tips gently touched my hair. The silken strands slip slowly from his finger tips The misty moonlight glowed softly Playing peek a boo with his face and sensual lips. His finger tips stroked my face. Then slowly down my arm to take my hand. He firmly pressed my finger tips, and kissed each and every one with grace. He made the silvery night into a fairy land. |