on the sands

Okay, sixty days' vacation. Long enough. I'm back. What did I miss? Hmm...a new muse, a couple of good erotic and classic pieces and the new CDs. Typical.

Let's relight the fires with this brand new one from the poet himself, written to a newer muse.

On the sands

Meet me on the sands tonight
when eyes are, to dreams, sealed
and let me kiss, you in my arms,
when passions are concealed
from prying eyes and bitter lies
and our own tender course
that bids us touch and twine again
with all our hungry force.
Barefoot, bare, with windblown hair
you lay with me till dawn
and I will sing the memories
of moments' joy, now gone.
But never were and never will
and perhaps so for the best
that we shall never merge to lay,
the hated fates to test.


William F. DeVault. all rights reserved.