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