How the temperate mind does turn
Upon the things that raise the pyre
To harken and obey your sweetness burn
That kindles deep inside this fond desire

The tokens of your kindness flamed
I yearn to treasure your embrace
The clock and distance make great pains
This melody cannot erase

'Cause tho we never tourched our flesh
I feel your beauty gentle kiss
Upon my face

Upon My Face

© 2026 Bob Lee