Rapture
The shadow grows across the gable.
Time for the sparrow to roost and rest.
Night bird calls, sadden my brow to know
You no longer caress my hand.
Your carriage left one day
Carried you, my love, so far
My love rests upon a weeping willow
beside the flowing brook.
We shall meet in sweet chariot
to ride away in the ocra sky.
At dusk, I watch and wait, my love,
For the rumble of hooves
and smell of home.
Copyright © Doris Culverhouse | Year Posted 2010
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