It happened one New Year's eve,
after the ball had dropped.

You wore your heart on your sleeve,
with that kiss my heart stopped.

A stranger before that night,
my liquored heart was propped.

I took a chance after the dance,
to sweep you off your feet.

I'd tasted that champagne before,
but it never tasted so sweet.

As when your eyes, to my demise,
demanded that we retreat.

To that place of amazing grace,
where both hearts feel the heat.

That interlude that finds us nude,
and lost beneath the sheet.

When both hearts pound as one,
and never skip a beat.

I'll always remember that interlude,
every time we meet.


Image submitted by Erik to


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Copyright 2012 © Ronald W. Hull