November 24, 2004
I wish I had the words to speak
As the old-sung sonnets of past
Or the voice to stroke
The hearts of lovers gazing in each others’ eyes
I love to speak, but at most times
The phrases are muttered ramblings
Doing no great justice to the feelings
Which are waxing and waning in me.
Save for my Lord’s inspiration
I scarce could utter a word
To tell of all that rows across my thoughts
And yet offer some substance for you.
– Sarah ><>