What does it prove this love of mine
She means no more to me than wine
That passes lips of those who crave
Knowing wine will see them to their grave
She is no more to me than food
When placed upon a table would
Provide a feast and bring salvation
And rescue them from Hell's damnation
To me she's little more than air
That circles me and shifts my hair
It brings me life and lets me breathe
Her name each night before l leave
To find the sleep she is to me
Exquisite dream of destiny
Of caring words that keep me sane
And lift my spirits when they wane
That's all she is no more no less
This love of mine that God has blessed
Madre de dos she wears my ring
My wife my life my everything.
-
Author:
James Stinson (
Offline) - Published: January 20th, 2023 13:34
- Category: Love
- Views: 12
Offline)
Comments3
this is beautiful! truly
Thank you.
this is so much more than just sweet .. it would, by comparison make sucre seem sour .. tis lovely & then some 🙂
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.