Let me trace your cheekbones with my fingers, feel the crags and valleys of the face I love so well. Let me place your head between my hands as eyes of blue look through me, flowing to the core of my most hidden self. Let me sing to you a crooning tune that resonates upon the evening wind, a gentle song of wandering, of loneliness, a song of coming home again. Let me tell you of a quiet place where there's no time except the present, with no past to mourn, Where the subtle shades of right and wrong blend into tapestries, a place where hope is born. May my love protect your heart, although today you're very far from me, Let tomorrow find its way to us and answer prayers of fulfilled destiny. -- copyright October 2000 Judith Anne Labriola
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