Those wonderful fragrances you left in my bed
are a constant reminder of the things that were said
of the pleasures we shared in a mutual way
well remembered and etched in my mind there to stay.
The anticipation of when next we meet
is bad for my health, cause my heart skips a beat.
Til then my love I must wait and see
was it passion that spoke, or my love for thee?
(c) Jack Carr 1997