In the Waking Hours
Her voice beckons me in the waking hours
She softly calls me to join her where
She walks beneath an arbor of flowers,
And I…I long expectantly to join her there.
She softly calls me to join her where
Separation is a quantity entirely unknown,
And I…I long expectantly to join her there
Where she awaits near a golden throne.
Separation is a quantity entirely unknown
In that place where love reigns supreme,
While she awaits near a golden throne
Where happiness is the prevailing theme.
In that place where love reigns supreme,
Pure love, not temporal, as we know here
Where happiness is the prevailing theme,
There is no hurt, anguish, hatred, or fear.
Pure love, not temporal, as we know here,
The kind of love that never fades or dies,
There is no hurt, anguish, hatred, or fear
No tears are shed, for no one ever cries.
The kind of love that never fades or dies
She walks beneath an arbor of flowers,
No tears are shed, for no one ever cries
Her voice beckons me in the waking hours.
Written October 9, 2022
Copyright © L Milton Hankins | Year Posted 2022
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