Premonition.

You are not

my love alone,

nor are you just

obsession mine.

You are that lovely

Premonition,

that drew from me

whe words I wrote,

for you to comw 

and flesh them out,

so I could then

in worship fall,

in hope that you

shall lift me up.

Note: This is when the beloved was not even on the horizon, but words came along in wait of her. And when she came along they wrapped themselves around her form, and like a queen they dressed her up.