Fancy: my muse

Gentle time passes as the wind might,

Enveloping past, present and future in one sigh.

Where do your thoughts stray,

On a boring Saturday?

I seek you, like a dog on a scent,

I travel a quest, seek your carnal flesh,

Reading your flesh, in nature, afresh,

Your invisible dart that opens me up,

To show me the world of Beauty.

Just your face:

Time shifts space,

And my flesh trembles in fancy,

As time itself is drawn into your

Secret.