I know not, Amina
When again on your brightness of smile
My eyes will rest awhile

Nor when again of your softness of voice
My ears will rest awhile

When again into the silver moonshine
You early at night or late venture
As is your wont in weather fine
Astute, awake in bed as doters may, i'll lie
Dreaming of grasping  your velvety texture 

The poem evokes the senses of_______