The Aisle
The Aisle
A cathedral of trees;
An aisle of sand,
Barefoot I carry you,
Through our Golden land
Your head on my shoulder,
Your hand on my arm
My heart is steady;
Your breath is calm
Altar made of green
Walking slowly, watching you,
The most beautiful woman
I have ever seen
You hold my hand;
Even though you know,
The question I will ask,
Your answer will be no.
I gently place you down;
Wanting you to wear my crown,
A king you'd make me,
I was lost now found
Your answer lost to the winds,
My heart lost to time;
I'm left alone,
Wishing you were mine.
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