Finest Hour

By: Mick Goodson

When falls I upon my knee
before my own true love,
lays her hand on roughened cheek
with touch like greeting dove.

Replenish my tainted heart
her words so soft in bearing,
freshly born this ragged fool
my daily fears now fading.

Dare I not gaze in clear eyes
for fear of stealing light,
come take dream's finest hour
remove my darkest nights.
Is enough for me her presence be,
Is enough be in her sight.