I miss the way a Man can hold my hand.
As He caters to my hot sensual demand.
How He can caress the arch of my back with a tender touch.
Letting his fingers brush across my breast,
satisfying me with a whispered hush.
I miss the way I can climb on top of Him and then......
Be swept away by the rhythm as our bodies blend.
I miss the way a Man ultimately satisfies.
From my lips, to my hips, and between my thighs.
I miss the way He and I can tickle and play.
I miss the way we can usually end our day.
The way He can spoil me, allowing me to have my way.
Umm I miss the way a Man can satisfy me in every way.
Yet now this is all a memory for me.
I find myself daydreaming it's him I see.
It's a Mans eyes I'm thinking, His hands I'm thinking.
His passion I'm invisioning.
And yes let me mention
The essence of His presence,
Is now just a glimpse.
A wanted illusion.
There's no confusion.
That in His absence it feels pretty grey.
All because "I Miss The Way"...........................