Author Frederick Adam Wright Her breast she laid upon my breast, My bosom on her bosom pressed; And as I took her lips to mine I felt her arms about me twine. The rest is silence. None could see, Except our lamp, love's mystery. Tags Short Poems Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments