Where art thou,
My future love?
For it is you
My heart yearns for.
Thine lips which speak
Such lovely words,
Thine eyes which gaze
Into my soul,
Thine hands which hold mine,
Thine arms which embrace me;
I just cannot wait
To meet you.
Thine hair which curls
Upon thine brow,
Which makes me smile;
Oh! How I await your arrival!
We shall meet in the fall,
When the air is crisp,
And the colors are appropriate
For lovely thoughts.
When we do meet
Our hearts will soar.
Oh! I hope that you exist.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment