how often now
my soul is fed
with crumbs of yesterday
of memories
I’ve yet to give
away
o precious song
of silent lips
when whispered –
come to me
could e’er the wind
abide
such mystery
a solitude
of aging sands –
by graces undenied
tis not for me the silver
grew –
another youth
to hide
years replayed
and laid again –
o’er those I dare not keep
dreams –
beyond the countenance
of sleep
within the hall
where time is charged
by one still yet
to know –
love becomes a river
to wash upon
my soul
. . .
I understand this well 🌹
❤ love to you, my precious Willow
Beautifully written – I love this!
Thank you so much, my friend! ❤
Your words are always a lovely rhapsody to embrace Bobbie!!!
….as is your kindness to my heart
The genuine softness of your heart and soul easily birth a kindness that stays! God gifted you in such a wonderful way!!!
You honor me with more than just kindness!
in constance freed
distilled by autumn’s hand
coiled around a mighty trunk
branches with sinews intact —
reaching, yielding, being
never holding back
I felt your words and glanced up as the tide started to come in. Washing over sand, time and time again….I so feel this piece of your heart Bobbie, as it finds echoes in mine ❤
Across and through…..leaving me with you and you with me…….. ❤
Love is a river that flows forever between two hearts… And where is the seat of the soul?
❤
Exactly …
A comfort, Bobbie.
Thank you, Stephen……. You are…….
I felt your words. Its beautiful❤ i love your work.
❤ thank you, my sweet