Here now I so proclaim in lines of love
Well knowing love cannot condense to words,
Yet these seem all I’ve left of heart to move
By sweet penned passion, prayers my soul be heard.
Yet what to write to claim that gentle hand?
What verse so scribed might strike a cherished chord?
What letter pure would she yet view as grand?
Please show the way, I beg of you dear Lord!
If silent ink may still stir gentle hearts,
If simple notes may yet resound in praise,
If loving breath be proved through cursive art
Then of that precious soul this rune may sway;
I tender thus sweet musings meek or bold,
By missives such to win a heart of gold.
© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.