I Sing of the Body Electra

A purr. It's a deep husky purr, that's aroused from that throat gold and pure.
Like soft silk caressing crushed velvet, giving strength to those motions so sure.
She stands silhouetted in firelight. Tongues of flame gently lick at the stone.
In the cold of the darkness, her eyes glow, burning with a fire of their own.
She takes a step closer. My heart skips a beat in its languorous, rhythmic song.
A slow moment finds her at bedside. With a shrug, her robe falls to the ground.

I sing of the body Electra, autumn hair highlights her fair face.
In the heavens which bow down before her, the angels all envy her grace.

She sobs in my arms, mem'ries flooding, all the while running hands through my hair.
As I brush away all her warm teardrops, I promise to always be there.
She nestles her head 'gainst my shoulder. I pull her close ever so tight.
Warding ourselves 'gainst the darkness, we hold on until morning's first light.
The sunlight explodes through the window, like a lover forsaken for night.
I kiss her sweet neck as the dawn comes. She bathes in its silvery light.

I sing of the spirit Electra, an inferno that warms more than burn.
Strong fires can give life to dark shadows, but bright love brings more love in return.

She's not mine to keep, and I know it. To do so would be a great sin.
But I'll hold her as long as I've got her, for my heart's hers and always has been.
I wake to a room shroud in darkness. The dawn still long hours away.
My back hurts. I've napped at my desktop, while trav'ling the dream-keeper's way.
I move toward the bed, still quite tired. A sweet scent swims through the cool air.
My mind may ha' been dreaming of her; my heart knows her soul ha' been there.

I sing of the essence Electra, love to bind, yet still love to free.
In her fast moving river of brightness, flows some of the river of me.

Copyright 1993 Martin Hackett