A Plea for Love


When I find myself in a low-lit room of dusty memories without a broom, and I fade away into that place where all lies hide from shadowed grace, let me rest in your kind arms a while, with a gentle gaze and your warmest smile.

Let not the wintry winds that blow carry me away to lands unknown, and seek my hand that you may see I am real and not make believe; crush my lips with your warmest kiss to allow passion rise in times we miss.

Dance to the beat of an African drum and hide our hearts in a lover’s hum, that we might ne’er know love that’s lost or love procured at our souls’ cost; hush undesired Fate with a lullaby, and listen for God’s expectant sigh.

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Image courtesy of Microsoft ClipArt



15 responses »

  1. that has such a wonderful tone in the expectation of what could and can be. i had to check my skin to see if i was starting to melt. very nice sheila….:)

  2. That’s beautiful, Sheila. I love that it’s written very prose like in the physical look of it, but then you are wrapped in lovely rhyme and meter and vivid metaphor. Wonderful!

  3. I love the Bleeding Hearts…they are so delicate and beautiful as they bloom in early spring. Your words are equally as beautiful. You have such a gift with making words flow perfectly.

  4. this poem sweeps me away in the “wintry winds” into the magic of your painted canvas

    David in Maine

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