I can see that in your eyes there is a
time
That is coming where it will not rhyme
I hear that in your voice there is a
timbre
Whose mellow tones strain without limber
I hold your unsteady hands so to calm
The storms that you once carried in your
palm
I understand now how you must leave the
day
Only know I will never be far away
Sleep my handsome Prince Nibs in yonder
place
and wait - for I shall come to touch your sweet face.
No comments:
Post a Comment