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A Gifted Pen
If I gave you a pen
as a gift from my heart
to write me the words of a song,
one I might hum
to a soft ballad strum
and knew you’d be singing along?
Would you sing it to me
till the last of our days
with the Spring morning heart of a wren?
I want to know
how the heart truly glows
from the soul of a gifted pen.
If I gave you a pen
as a gift from my heart
to write about how we might live,
of all we would care
to stay faithful in prayer
and all of the love we would give?
Would the faith we display
till the last of our days
be the strength of a hundred men?
I want to know
how the heart truly glows
from the soul of a gifted pen.
Someday I’ll show
what it feels like to know
the soul of a gifted pen
When it’s written the life
of the happiest wife
who laughs till she cries now and then
From the kiss I blew
to a wishful moon
to someday count for when
I’d finally know
the warmhearted glow
of the soul of a gifted pen
If I gave you a pen
as a gift from my heart
to write about how this will end,
a love story told
as the ages of old
how we found a love needing a friend?
Would our happiness known
till the last of our days
be the envy of all mortal men?
I want to know
how the heart truly glows
from the soul of a gifted pen.
Copyright ©
Jeannie Cronin
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