The Cemetery

Hand in hand, they push open the Iron Gate,

Jubilation at the end to their shared wait.

The cold wind howling through the menacing pine trees,

The grass cool beneath their bent knees.

Excited with the lingering feeling of unease,

She smiles and he touches as if to tease.

The urge to take her and the doubt whether he could,

The pause as they lean into a kiss they never found so good.

Twilight trickling through from above its shadow caught in her eye,

Nothing more uniquely passionate then making love in a place to die.

Their hands exploring places the dark keeps sweet,

Warm skin against cold hands begging for lustful heat.

Clinging together for warmth in a cemetery,

I would not be anywhere else can’t you see...

#OfPenAndPaper