My fruits of labour
I have slavered
picking from the highest trees
trees up in the mountain mind
very difficult to find
delicate as those
words on mindful growth
flying home to you, my love
You listen, hopefully

My time of searching
crawling lurching
from the valleys deepest hip
from there to the mountain high
world around me in a sigh
wishing other things
talk of word with wings
mine are in your grace, my love
take another dip

My time is always
due in so ways
done with overtime with praise
gratitudes of waiting fall
mercy for the sinners all
One of them like me
nowhere to be free
but with you in mind, my love
holding round your waiste

My fruit of labour
like a saviour
sleeping waiting there for me
time is nothing as they say
lost in time you lose your way
I am always here
thousand miles but near
close as ever was, my love
like surrounding sea

Poetry by PapaFahr The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 618 times
Written on 2010-10-27 at 17:30

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