A fleeting glimpse, of midnights passion,
Stealing from the dreams of night.
All the warmth, that flesh encountered,
Ebbs away in dawning light.

Scent the musk, that still does linger,
On the silk, where she had lain.
Hear the echoes of her whispers,
For that is all, that does remain.

Laurie hill

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/echoes-of-her-whispers/