Weak men

do not see the queen.
only the warrioress.
Yet dare point and demand i take a knee.
peasants.
knowing not
the only King I of free will bow to.
My travels to return to my man
have taken me far from my homeland,
and a warm bed on a cold night
is left with the sheeps skin. no more.
In the first light my journey takes me on.
The king of my heart knows me true.
He holds the flame of me with him.
He Sees me. He Hears me.
He trusts me with his everything.
He desires my love and my touch.
He guards my rest, my back and my heart.
He is my strength. My vulnerability
My silence. My song.
He is not perfect. Together we are.
He is clever. full, open humor and wit. Words from him inrapture me.
His eyes hold my world.
His honor, loyalty and protection embolden my joy and my surender is complete. My soul is at peace in his arms.
I will never fear him nor turn my face from him. in all things we are. two as one. until one becomes all.
tonight at long last I will be home.
my travels ended. my love before me.
i have dreamt of the ways i will bow before him.
lick my lips at the desire for the taste of him.
i arrive late and search the walls and find silence.
i wash in deep pools and wait silent in our bed. the scent of him soothing and fire.
woke from slumber by my lovers touch
may i die this deliciously blissful.