Written by: Roy Keith

A thousand fair suitors all stab at your heart
 Those poets of movement and jockeys of art
 The high-volume vendors who hustle romance
 Splashing their canvas with color and dance

 The blasters of trumpets, gold banners unfurled
 They offer lush gardens in glistening worlds
 Yes, bearers of torches and carvers of stone
 Who whisper their sonnets and surrender their thrones

 And there in your doorway, no shadow is cast
 No lingering voices, no ghosts from the past
 Just a cluster of walls, and a window of pain
 Collecting the heartache like droplets of rain

 Still I stand before you, with palms to the sky
 No gold in my pocket, no thorn in my side
 And all I can offer, where words have no place
 Is a body that trembles, and this love that awaits