One Flesh
Can I fathom all her many thoughts,
Divine her mood for every day?
Do I know the meaning of her words,
Exactly what she means to say?
Love is not made soon with gentle ease,
The pleasant passing of each hour,
But tested by discomfort's tease
And so tempered as to take to prayer.
A portion of the Spirit given
Makes more a Godly union one,
Or marriage always will be riven
Soon ended barely as begun.
Copyright © Bob Kimmerling | Year Posted 2020
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