Waiting patiently, in the pale moon light
for the moment of his return.
Hair slightly damp, curly, and wispy,
the crisp cool linens, gently draped over her body.
Echos of the footsteps from the floor below,
beat steadily to their own drum.
A subtle whoosh of the ceiling fan joins in,
delicately creating a symphony unbeknownst to them.
Minutes pass, yet feeling like hours,
when the sound of his footsteps suddenly perk your ear.
Eyes peek open to catch a glimpse of his shadow on the bedroom floor
as the familiar smell of his aftershave swirls in the room.
Softly the sheets glide across your body
to make room for his entrance.
His caressing touch greets you as he joins by your side.