Unknown Emotion

Tip toeing across a silver stream of wonders
A caressing glimpse is obscured with tenderness.
Its fingers drift from shoulder to shoulder
With a slight chill of a reflection in morning’s frost.
A wraith of inhibitions it tis, sinking as the dawn,
Yet soundly silent, it is a wonderful sensation.
Not quite as warm as a lover’s breath,
And not as cold as the grief of the dead;
Tis an emotion unknown by a single name,
Although felt by each and everyone just the same.