Glorious Love
Time has shewn his face, but free
A date the waiting soul to be.
Upon thy bed he lay barbed to the sky
She wonders if it's time to say goodbye.
His finger folds a curl on her hand
It's if as though both two should understand.
One last look his eyes bid to a view
Her loving face he'll miss by morning dew.
Sleep my love the whispering voice he hears
And finally with eyes closed, life disappears.
Copyright © Ray Zottola | Year Posted 2023
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