Come near,
I long to savor
your soul.

You are the salvation
that I must extract
to keep sin at bay.

Lucifer's extending hand,
black and cold,
cannot sway me from the rugged hand
that is inviting with its heavenly warmth.

God's masterpiece,
far surpassing the splendor
of rolling hills and blossoming fields in spring.
Let me carry you away to such places
where you will not be compared, but praised!

My tongue will not dare
curse your beauty with comparisons,
but will brag of my compassion for you
whom God flawlessly fashioned.

Flowers abound the Earth,
but your scent overwhelms their bodies
and they faint in ecstasy.

Free yourself from
the constant strife
of turning your lips from mine,
they have reached their destination.

I love and know nothing more,
nor nothing better.
I yearn and it is yet to be a bore,
though my soul is sore.
The blessed clay,
I shall carry it away...

Melissa Hurst

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/922-945-964-959-967-942/