What of this life, if not to love? Your arms around me and our kisses so sweet. Morning or evening, summer or fall, we rule the moment, winter and all. Bridging the distance with mystical dreams, hopes and desires and a bit of memory. Time plays and awful game as I wipe the tears, I stop to pray. Before you close your eyes and rest your weary mind, hear my prayer I whisper for you. The words of my heart right there in the blue. Quickly released to the wind, let my words of love touch you from within.
~
I know that laughter is a gift of all time,
it remains in my heart and my mind.
The smiles you give the life we have
to live, I am grateful for all we have.
Souls that collide, when hearts join
you became mine. Nothing can take
away my love for you, you'll find
it rules the sky so blue.
We said our goodbyes to summer,
the days have quickly passes us by.
While Autumn bows to winter, I
feel the emptiness without you
by my side.
The night usually finds me sleeping
and yet I lay here wondering of the
day, when dreams first became
reality and your kiss a breath away.
~
Let me not to the marriage of true minds Admit impediments. Love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds, Or bends with the remover to remove: O no! it is an ever-fixed mark That looks on tempests and is never shaken; It is the star to every wand'ring bark, Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken. Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks Within his bending sickle's compass come; Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, But bears it out even to the edge of doom: If this be error and upon me proved, I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
Let me not to the marriage of true minds Admit impediments. Love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds, Or bends with the remover to remove: O no! it is an ever-fixed mark That looks on tempests and is never shaken; It is the star to every wand'ring bark, Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken. Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks Within his bending sickle's compass come; Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, But bears it out even to the edge of doom: If this be error and upon me proved, I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
Let me not to the marriage of true minds Admit impediments. Love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds, Or bends with the remover to remove: O no! it is an ever-fixed mark That looks on tempests and is never shaken; It is the star to every wand'ring bark, Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken. Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks Within his bending sickle's compass come; Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, But bears it out even to the edge of doom: If this be error and upon me proved, I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
No comments:
Post a Comment