Monday, June 10, 2013

On The Wolds.

On The Wolds.



What I'd love to hold,
Walks silently on the wolds.
Tall and lean,
Like ripening summer corn,
A smile supreme,
Makes me glad,
I was born.
Caught in my sights,
Target of loves desire,
Up on rolling wolds,
A spirit, a dream,
Distant in a close embrace,
Hope and joy
Fill o'er my face,
The glow of firelight,
And her warm embrace.