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by Robert Louis Arehart

Her world is her soul-mate, her lover.
To her he's much more than a friend.
Each morning brings tenderest greetings.
A heart's-burst of pleasure, days end.

She sees in him all of her longings.
To her he is life's every thing.
To exist without him is nowhere.
Beside him, she hearkens to spring.

Of all of her treasures she counts him
the greatest of earth's well-filled store.
Forevermore, tightly, she'll hold him
'til all of their days run their score!
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Poem ID: 8137   Poem Posted: 10/9/1998
Viewed: 9896  Voted On: 117  E-mailed: 29  Commented On: 0
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Copyright , 8-3-79,  all rights reserved by the author.
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